


Sail through the changing ocean tides

by PrimalScream



Category: Black Sails
Genre: AU, Anal Fingering, Angst, Blow Jobs, Canon Divergent, Explicit Sex, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 11:21:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 47,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13703427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimalScream/pseuds/PrimalScream
Summary: Set S4-ish, it diverges from canon pretty quickly.He realizes that even if he doesn’t find Thomas, John has given him the ultimate gift. John has given him freedom. Or the story of how three men become one unit.





	1. I've built my life around you

**Author's Note:**

> I started this at the very first _inkling_ that Thomas might return, it’s been well over a year and it’s been finished for more than half that time and I’ve been sitting on it. I started it for me, because it was what I needed. Originally I wasn’t ever going to share this, I was writing what I needed to see, what I wanted to see for me alone. But then it just kept growing and now I want to share. I’ve spent the last several months reading it over and over, editing and adding and deleting and I just need to let it go now because if I don’t it will haunt me.
> 
> If you’re looking for plantation Thomas you won’t find it here. If you’re looking for James in Chains, you also won’t find that here. Canon in this little ditty cuts off early S4 and I’ve made some creative adjustments. 
> 
> I have taken some liberty with time and history. If you’re only in this for the James/Thomas reunion, you can probably stop after Ch1. The rest is HEAVY OT3 with a good dose of James/John reunion.

Using the moon for guidance James sets sail for St. Augustine. As long as the sky remains clear, it should be easy for him to navigate. The sloop is small but well equipped; stocked with dry goods, water, and gold. As the miles trail behind him, he can feel himself shedding bits of Flint. Despite what he’d told Miranda, despite sometimes even lying to himself about where Flint originated, he knows that Flint isn’t someone he’ll ever be completely rid of. But for now, he can feel the pressure and the burdens he’d once sheathed himself in falling away, allowing Flint to settle into the dark spaces at the back of his mind, allowing Flint some much needed rest. He realizes that even if he doesn’t find Thomas, John has given him the ultimate gift. John has given him freedom.

After losing Thomas and then Miranda, he’d always assumed his death would come at the end of a sword in one bloody battle or another. At no point had he ever imagined giving up the war he had started and everything it had stood for, to go running toward a ghost that may not even exist. But then he’d never factored for John either. Their short time together had turned James inside out, all the while turning him back into a man he’d thought was gone forever. 

James fingers the paper he stuffed in his coat pocket, the name scrawled across it as familiar to him as his own. When he closes his eyes he can still see John’s face as it had been on the beach.

_“Thomas Hamilton is alive and that’s where you’ll find him.” John nods his head to the slip of parchment he had just pushed into James’s hand. “I don’t know the details, I only know that he was ferreted out of London by his father and set up at that estate under that pseudonym. Go now, while you still can.”_

_James stares at him, disbelief coursing through his body, but the name staring back at him could have only come from one person. Before he can get out a single question John crushes their mouths together, his lips trembling against James’s. James tries to hold onto him but John yanks himself away. He sees the wetness sliding down John’s cheeks and the anguish lining John’s face, but James is too slow. Before he can reach for John again, John is up on his horse and riding away across the sand. James watches him until he disappears into the horizon._

During the day he tries to keep out of the lanes most larger ships will travel, he isn’t equipped for trouble and truth be told he has no desire to court it either. He tries in vain to sleep, but every time his eyes close he sees John. He tries to remain focused on the trip ahead, on the future instead of the past, but memories continue to crowd his mind.

_John leans against the door of James’s room, his arms crossed over his chest and his face drawn. It’s late, nearly everyone else is asleep and James knows what John needs, what he wants and why he’s here. James takes a single step toward him and it’s all the permission John needs. John molds his body to James’s, his face pressed tight into the space between James’s shoulder and neck, his breath already heavy._

_James knows he’s every kind of a fool for allowing this to happen, again and again. The day had been long and arduous, loading the ship, the two of them talking about which men they could afford to lose and which they couldn’t, whom they’d be willing to sacrifice on the front line. James knows how much John hates it. These are his men too, men he’s come to care for, and the thought of purposely putting any of them in a place where their death is nearly guaranteed has weighed heavily on John’s mind. Its days like this when John turns to him for comfort._

_These are the nights where James learns the ins and outs of John’s body. Where he learns what John sounds like when he’s overcome with pleasure. These are the nights that James learns where to touch and just how hard. They’ve never removed a single item of clothing but James knows John’s body as if it were his own. He knows the sound of John’s gasp at the sharp rut of James’s hips. He knows the desperate clutch of John’s hands and the taste of his skin. He knows the perfect way their mouths fit together, he knows the exact way that John’s body fits all his empty spaces._

_James navigates them to his bed, he lays John’s body down and proceeds to take him apart the way John needs him to so that sleep can find him._

James had never intended for it to happen and now it’s impossible to forget, he’s not entirely sure he wants to.

***

It takes him five and a half days to reach St. Augustine. He stays two days, trading the sloop for two horses and replenishing supplies while working out the quickest route to Savannah. He spends an hour and a half in the bath that first day, changing the water twice until there’s not a trace of dirt anywhere on him. His nail beds are the cleanest they’ve been since he left London. He spends a long time debating about whether to shaving off his beard. In the end he just trims it close, not ready to say goodbye to it just yet. 

He sets out at dawn on the third day, the locations of traders written down in the event he needs help or replenishment along the way. It’s a nine day ride and James spends all of it imagining what he’s going to say, how he’s going to apologize for Miranda’s death, how he will break the news that his father’s death came at James’s hand, as well as Peter’s. He wonders if he should just start with a list of everything he thinks is too awful to forgive and ask for forgiveness anyway. He agonizes over whether Thomas will even recognize the man he’s become. He wonders if Thomas ever made the connection between James and Flint. He tries to file away the guilt he feels for not looking for Thomas sooner. He and Miranda had accepted the news of Thomas’s death without a second thought, never once imagining that their trusted friend could be lying to them.

He sticks close to the coast, taking advantage of the fairly flat terrain. Pacing himself, he switches the horse he rides each day so that they both receive equal amounts of rest—the last thing he needs is a lame horse. He tries to remain alert, watching for any of the native tribes he’d been warned about. He can’t imagine that a single man with minimal supplies would be very enticing, but he’s careful regardless. 

His surroundings are green and lush, the smell of earth mixed with the delicate bloom of flowers tickling his senses. It’s inviting, despite the stifling humidity. The weather is similar to Nassau with its relentless sun and heat and he finds it oddly comforting. 

He tries to stop each day when the sun is at its highest to rest and water the horses and to allow himself to shake off the stiffness of riding. Small streams under the thick canopies of trees are plentiful. More than once he’s stripped down and waded into the slow moving water, the coolness bringing him relief from the heat, washing away the dirt and soothing the ache in his bones from hours in the saddle. It’s during these short reprieves that he’ll relax against the rough bark of a towering tree and try to catch a few moments of sleep as the water dries on his bare skin. When sleep won’t come he’ll take out the battered copy of _Waverly_ he had found tucked in with his supplies and share a snack of apples with the horses. His memories of John are sharp and bright each time he sees the cover of the book, John had understood and even shared James’s love of reading and the parting gift brings sadness, but also fondness for a man he knows that he will miss until the day they put him in the ground.

Halfway through the ninth day of his journey, James arrives at the outskirts of Savannah. Wanting another bath and a full night's rest before he continues on to the location John had given him, he stops for the day at a boarding house situated neatly behind a small trading post. 

He has dinner with Mary and Johnny, the owners of the trading post, who share tales of the area. They talk about the English that have come and gone and the ones that have come and stayed. James doesn’t dare ask about Thomas, he’s not ready yet. Before he sets out tomorrow, he’ll ask the exact location of the house, but he won't ask about its inhabitants. They talk about the Yamacraw tribe from which Mary’s mother hailed and the agreements between the natives and the Governors. It’s mildly fascinating to James but his mind wanders, and before long he excuses himself to his room. He spends a mostly sleepless night tossing and turning, mind and body unable to relax. He finally falls asleep as the night sky is beginning to turn from black to dusky blue.

***

The next day he waits until the sun is high and the haze of the early morning has burned off. Mary gives him directions on how to find Thomas’s house and wishes him good luck. James’s heart skips a beat when she uses a singular _he_ in reference to the house's occupants.

He rides for half an hour before he spots the turn off Mary had told him about, it looks exactly as she had said it would. Slowly, he makes his way down the long, worn dirt road. The trail is lined by towering oak trees on each side, thick spanish moss hanging from the branches that meet in the middle to form a cover of cool shade.

James has to stop and catch his breath. His heart is starting to pound and the bread he’d eaten for breakfast churns in his stomach, making James wonder if it's going to stay down or if it's going to revisit him. He feels himself break out in a cold sweat, his palms dampen as goosebumps rise on his back. He tells himself that no matter what he finds at the end of this road, he’s free. He has his life and he’s free. After several, long minutes he nudges the horse forward once more.

At the end, the road branches out on both sides forming a circle. Directly across the circle sits a house, moderate in size, and clearly speaking of wealth with its two stories and screened-in wrap-around porches. James can make out several rocking chairs visible through the mesh and momentarily fantasizes about how peaceful it would be to idle away the hours of a day, reading in one of those chairs, as the soft breeze blew across the porch. James ties the horses to the top rail of a corral just off to the left of the house before he makes his way toward the stone path leading up to the front steps. 

He keeps his eyes down, one foot in front of the other as his heart beats so fast he feels like it’s going to burst right out of his chest. His legs are like rubber and there’s a tremor running through his hands.

James hears a gasp and when he looks up Thomas is standing at the top of the stairs. He is as beautiful in this instant as he was the last time James saw him. Time has added lines to Thomas’s face, the same as it has to his, and the constant sun has added color, but his eyes are the same deep blue they’d always been. 

Neither one of them moves as they take each other in. James feels himself start to shake. He hadn’t allowed himself to fully believe that Thomas could still be alive, but the evidence is staring him dead in the face. He can’t get his legs to move, still frozen to the spot on the path where he stopped when he heard Thomas gasp.

Thomas hits the steps at a run, rushing toward James only to come to a full stop just inches away. There are tears standing in Thomas’s eyes and James feels an echoing prick at the corners of his own. Thomas reaches for James, hand shaking as he cups the side of James’s face with his palm. Thomas’s thumb strokes along his cheekbone as James’s eyes slide closed. Thomas’s soft, reverent utterance of James’s name sends James crashing to his knees, Thomas following him down and wrapping James in his arms.

James doesn’t know how long they stay that way, with James nearly sobbing, repeating _I’m sorry_ over and over until his voice is nearly hoarse. Thomas rocks him back and forth, shushing him, his own tears seeping into James’s shirt. 

Eventually Thomas gets them up and into the house. He sits James down, in what James surmises is the dining room based on the decour. Thomas holds his hand out to James and motions to the swinging door to his right. As Thomas passes through James sees the hearth and small island before the door swings shut once again. Thomas comes back with a damp cloth and a fresh towel. James scrubs the tear tracks from his face before wiping his hands free of dirt. Thomas sits close, almost hovering, watching every move James makes. They both start to speak at the same time and James demurs, motioning for Thomas to go ahead. Thomas opens his mouth but then snaps it closed before heading back into the kitchen.

He returns several minutes later with a plate of fruit and two glasses of water. James takes the water but declines the fruit, with the way his stomach is turning over, putting something in it would be a profoundly bad idea. 

Neither of them speak but James can feel the weight of Thomas’s eyes taking in every visible change over the last ten years. James just sits still, lets Thomas look his fill, the entire time doing the same. The freckles over the bridge of Thomas’s nose are more prominent and his skin is no longer the alabaster it was in London, but his eyes are still so clear, so commanding that when they meet his, James can almost imagine that no time has passed at all. 

So lost in his own thoughts, James nearly jumps out of his skin when Thomas’s thumb brushes the scar on his cheek, “Tell me about this.”

“I beat a man to death,” the confession is out before he can stop it. He sees the way Thomas’s face blanches briefly before smoothing into a considering look. Nowhere does he find the disgust he’d been expecting. 

“Well, that seems rather unfortunate for him, but perhaps he shouldn’t have put himself in a situation where that outcome was a possibility.” Thomas just smiles at him as James’s mouth falls open. “If you’re looking for recrimination for the things you’ve done to keep yourself alive, you won’t find them here.”

James starts to speak but Thomas holds up his hand, “Before you give me a list of all the deeds you think are too horrendous for me to forgive or that you believe make you some sort of harbinger of death and destruction, and the devil incarnate to boot, you should know that Abigail Ashe and I see each other quite frequently. I’m well aware of your pseudonym, James.”

Thomas moves his chair closer until their knees are touching, until he can reach out and cup James’s face in his hands and smooth his thumbs across James’s cheeks. “Any misdeed that you think you need my forgiveness for doesn’t exist, there’s nothing to forgive. You did what was necessary in order to survive. I know your heart, and I know the exact loss that ravaged it because I carried it too.”

They sit in silence for several long minutes, eyes holding, until finally James sees only truth and understanding in Thomas’s face. His eyes broadcast a love that James had imagined gone forever. 

They spend the next several hours talking about how Thomas’s father had removed him from Bethlem several months after Miranda and James had left London. Under the cover of darkness, and with the help of a man Thomas has never met, he had been moved to Savannah. Thomas’s eyes shift from his and James knows without a doubt he’s hiding something. He doesn’t push, only hopes that time will allow Thomas to feel comfortable enough to share. James understands all too well the need to gloss over some of the darker parts of one’s past.

The house, Thomas explains, was a gift from the governor to his father. His father had told everyone that Thomas was his long lost nephew, who, after suffering greatly at the hands of Spain, needed a safe place to lick his wounds. James doesn’t miss the sardonic tone of Thomas’s voice. 

“Abigail and I have formed a group of like minded people trying to abolish the practice of slavery and the corralling of the native people. Needless to say, it’s going slower going than our plans for Nassau ever were. People are so stuck in their own ways of thinking, not able to see beyond, not able to envision a future where everyone could share in prosperity.”

James loves that despite what Thomas had been through he still has the same passionate soul that James had fallen in love with the first time. He tells Thomas stiltedly about becoming Flint, and if he talks around some of the more brutal occurrences, Thomas doesn’t question it. They talk about Miranda and how her death haunts James to this very day, he’s unable to move past the idea that he failed her in the end. Thomas tells him to stop wallowing, there was nothing he could have done differently, at least nothing that would have changed the course of their lives. 

He talks about John, trying desperately to control his tone and mannerisms. He realizes he fails as Thomas’s attention focuses sharply and his questions become increasingly personal. Thomas smiles at him encouragingly and James is hit with a wave of loss at John’s absence that he can’t manage to hide. Thomas’s face is a study in sympathy. James tries to retreat but Thomas won’t allow it. 

“He was important to you?” James can only nod, “I’m so sorry, James.” He realizes that Thomas thinks John is dead.

“He’s alive. We weren’t–” James doesn’t know exactly what they were or weren’t, they were more than friends and just slightly less than lovers, but James loves him fiercely and he knows that John felt a measure of that same love for him, “Our timing wasn’t right.”

Thomas only nods, sensing James’s reluctance to go into further detail. There are things neither of them are ready to broach quite yet, and for James, John is one of those things. The pain of watching him walk away is still so fresh that James can barely think of him without being overtaken by despair. Silence falls between them as they study one another again, their eyes meeting off and on, small half smiles making it less awkward until James’s stomach growls so loudly that his cheeks color. The both of them chuckle and Thomas eventually gets him to eat something. 

Afterward, Thomas shows him the house. The main floor consists of the kitchen, dining room, parlour, and library, while the upstairs houses three bedrooms, all with attached sitting rooms. He shows James where the linens are, and silently helps him make up a bed in one of the spare rooms—neither of them quite ready to broach the subject of what it means now that James is there. 

Thomas takes him back to the kitchen and out the back door. Taking up space to his right on the back porch is a giant claw foot tub. James barely refrains from moaning at the thought of sinking into a hot bath whenever he chooses. 

“In the summer months I leave the tub out here. The well is just over there,” Thomas points off to his left. James can just make out the shape of it in the twilight. 

James follows Thomas back in through the kitchen. He can see the fidgit in Thomas’s hands, knowing that he’s just as on edge as James is settles James’s own jangling nerves just slightly.

Thomas pulls in a deep breath, “I don’t know what your intentions were coming here, but now that you are here, I want you to stay. I want to know you again. I’m—” Thomas looks away briefly before he continues, “I’m still very much in love with you, James. I don’t know where you stand, but I needed you to know. If you no longer feel the same way, I understand, but I will still want you to stay. I will gladly take simple friendship over nothing at all.”

The words wash over him like a cooling mist. He watches the twitch of Thomas’s foot, the way he swallows hard before wetting his lips. James takes several steps forward only to stop, hands clasped behind his back, “My feelings for you haven’t changed.”

“Thank Christ,” Thomas is moving before the words are even finished. He pushes into James’s space and James takes an involuntary step back. He can see the confusion on Thomas’s face before Thomas masks it. He reaches out slowly, hand coming to rest on James’s arm. James moves into the touch, cutting the space between them by a few inches. 

After a few short moments, Thomas relaxes and offers him the guest room but James declines, indicating the road dust he needs to wash off, “I think I’ll bed down here for the night.” 

Thomas nods and helps James tuck a sheet in around the settee. Once they’re finished Thomas approaches him carefully, his hand resting on James’s shoulder before leaning in and brushing a soft kiss across his cheek. James doesn’t understand the relief that courses through him when Thomas doesn’t push for more. 

“Well, I’m just upstairs if you need anything,” Thomas motions over his shoulder, rocking forward and back on his heels before turning abruptly away. 

James says a quiet thank you to Thomas’s retreating back then sits to remove his boots and socks as he tracks the sounds of Thomas’s progress through the house. The stairs don’t make a sound but he can just make out the shuffle of Thomas’s feet along the hallway upstairs. He tries desperately not to replay the last twenty minutes in his head but it’s an impossibility. 

He doesn’t know what happened. He _is_ happy to be here, he’s happy to see Thomas alive and well. He’s dreamed of little else for the past ten years. He doesn’t understand why he’d pulled away—or perhaps he understands all too well. Despite what Thomas had said, James knows there is at least one thing that Thomas may never be able to forgive. He doesn’t believe that Thomas could possibly know that it was James who murdered his father and as long as that stands between them, James doesn’t know how a relationship could possibly work. 

He lies awake well into the night, mind whirring with possible scenarios of Thomas finding out and none of them end well for him. Exhaustion finally takes him, but his sleep is fitful and filled with nightmares. 

***

The next week is spent getting to know one another again. James finds out Thomas is an excellent cook and an even better shot when it comes to foul. They spend long hours outside, Thomas showing James to each edge of the property and back. James marvels at the amount of land, most of it covered by thick grass and tall trees. 

More than once James finds himself exploring on his own. Some days he feels stifled, boxed in, and he needs to get out, to feel the air on his skin and the sun on his face. James imagines it’s because he’s spent the last ten years on the open sea, rarely finding solace inside of four stationary walls. Even in the captain's cabin he’d had the smell of sea air and the heat of the sun through the large windows. James had always spent more time above deck than in the cabin, preferring to sleep on the quarterdeck occasionally. 

Thomas has continued to come up with things for James to do outside, inherently understanding that James feels caged. Just yesterday he’d seen James pacing the floors, up and down the stairs, prowling restlessly. He’d asked James to come help him in the stable and the corral. James had never been more thankful for anything in his life. 

Before Thomas can even ask for his help, James begins throwing himself into most of the repairs he sees that need to be done. The physical labor allows his mind to go quiet and it aids in exhausting him to the point of nearly dreamless sleep each night. The status quo between himself and Thomas hasn’t changed. He’s still sleeping on the settee. He can’t bring himself to make a move on Thomas and he’s become an expert at identifying when Thomas intends to try, allowing him to dodge almost effortlessly. 

***

The first time Abagail comes for dinner she takes one look at James and throws herself into his arms. James staggers back having been more prepared for an assault of her fists than one of her tears. She says that she’d had no idea how cruel her father had been and then _she_ apologizes to _him_. James can only imagine what his face must have looked like because Thomas stands off to the side barely containing his amusement at James’s bewilderment. 

Dinner that evening is loud and jovial. Abigail tells James about all the things Thomas has already managed to accomplish, something Thomas has downplayed in his conversations with James over the last few weeks. James resolves that he will get the full story from here on out. The tops of Thomas’s ears go pink and eventually Thomas just shushes her outright much to her amusement. She shares a conspiratorial wink with James. 

James can’t believe the difference in her since he last saw her. She’s no longer the timid girl who had practically hidden behind Miranda’s skirts. She’s bright and joyful, laughing openly and trading teasing barbs back and forth with Thomas. It makes him wonder if being out from under the thumb of her father was the best thing for her. For the first time since taking Peter’s life, he doesn’t think of her with guilt and sorrow. He thinks that maybe, in some incredibly convoluted way, he’d freed her. 

Over dessert they crack open a second and then third bottle of wine. By the time they see Abigail off to her carriage they’re both slightly less stable on their feet. James can’t help but admire the flush to Thomas’s cheeks or the soft haze in his eyes. He is so incredibly beautiful that James can’t keep his eyes from lingering or stop the way his mind wanders. Just because he hasn’t tried to further their physical relationship doesn’t mean James isn’t thinking about it night and day. He remembers all too well the way Thomas’s hands had felt on his body, the way he’d respond to Thomas, the way Thomas could make him lose his mind with a single touch.

James doesn’t miss the way Thomas’s hand lingers at the small of his back on their way back into the house, or the way that Thomas’s eyes slowly take him in from head to toe, his gaze warm. He can’t deny that it makes his heart race and his breath catch. 

As they’re relaxing in the parlour, glasses of Brandy they don’t need sitting on the side tables, James can’t help but watch Thomas from across the room. Thomas has always been undeniably attractive to him, but like this, with a wide smile and dancing eyes, his whole demeanor relaxed and happy, he’s even more so. His legs are splayed, head lolling on the back of his chair as he returns James’s heavy gaze. 

James can think of at least half a dozen things he wants to do right this instant. He wants to touch and taste. He wants to get his hands and mouth on Thomas’s body. He’d love to crawl across the floor and put his head in Thomas’s lap, to have Thomas pet his hair as he sucks at Thomas’s cock through the fabric of his trousers. His mouth all but waters at the memory of the way Thomas had tasted.

“Is there any chance I can persuade you to shave?” Thomas’s voice is just slightly slurred from drink and exhaustion. James realizes too late that he’d been staring at Thomas’s covered cock from across the room. When he yanks his eyes up, Thomas is grinning at him. 

James strokes his fingers over his beard and moustache, “Why?”

Thomas closes his eyes and arches in the chair, stretching his back. James is momentarily distracted by the soft sound Thomas makes and the hard line of his body. He slumps back into the chair, and when his eyes open they’re heated, his hand slides slowly up the inside of his own thigh, “Because one day I _will_ get you back into my bed and I don’t want beard burn on my thighs.”

It's so matter of fact that James is momentarily stunned silent. He feels heat bloom in his cheeks; he’d have thought that at this point in his life, with everything he’d seen and done, he’d be past the puritan ways he’d been raised with. He’d forgotten how forthright Thomas could be. He opens his mouth—to say what, he doesn’t know—but Thomas cuts him off with a wave of his hand.

“If you’re going to apologize to me, don’t. I understand you need time. I should probably learn to hold my tongue, to keep from putting you in a position where you feel like you even need to apologize.” Thomas swirls the brandy in his glass, staring down into it for several seconds before downing the amber liquid. Smiling, he looks back up, “but you’re so goddamn stunning I can’t help myself. Age has only enhanced what was already an exceptional countenance.” He gets to his feet slowly, a yawn cracking his jaw, “I’m going to turn in.”

He puts his hand on James’s shoulder as he passes but James can’t let him go thinking that he’s done something wrong or that James doesn’t actually want him. Before Thomas can disappear, James puts his hand on top of Thomas’s, he turns his head and places a soft kiss on the inside of Thomas’s wrist before lifting his hand.

Thomas squeezes James’s shoulder in understanding before he exits the room. James sits and stares out the window, mind churning about what’s holding him back; he only needs to think as far as Alfred Hamilton and Peter Ashe to know. His need for revenge had blocked out every sense of reason he’d ever had. As much as he tries, he still doesn’t regret either death. 

***  
The weeks pass quickly, but instead of becoming more comfortable, James only becomes more apprehensive. He wakes from nightmares more often than not, nightmares about John mostly, and every single time Thomas is there at his side, soothing James back to sleep. He knows without a doubt that he’s calling out for John in his sleep and he would give nearly anything to be able to silence himself, to keep from shoving it in Thomas’s face despite Thomas’s very understanding demeanor.

His guilt is becoming a living, breathing entity between them. James can feel it eating up the space one awkward silence after another. He’s here in Thomas’s house, dreaming of another, regardless of the horror his subconscious assaults him with, those dreams are still born out of a deep seated love and desire for someone else. 

Which isn’t to say that he doesn’t want Thomas just as much. He does, desperately. His waking hours are filled with fantasies of the two of them. Every scenario imaginable plays behind James’s eyes. Thomas makes no bones about the fact that he wants James and is more than willing if James will just accept him. But he can’t seem to help worrying over John and the worry combined with the guilt have taken a toll on his libido. 

When he isn’t worrying about John, he’s worrying about Thomas and the mounting frustration he can see in Thomas. James has spent the last month being monosyllabic, but James can’t seem to keep his eyes to himself either. Thomas catches him looking frequently, but every time Thomas comes near him, trying to cash in on the desire he sees in James’s eyes, James feels as if he’s ready to jump out of his skin. He tries to keep himself from retreating to no avail. The mixed messages he knows he’s sending are just as irritating to himself as they are to Thomas but he has yet to find a way to make himself stop. 

A week ago they’d been in the kitchen, James had been making tea and Thomas had been chopping vegetables. The knife had slipped, Thomas had cursed a blue streak as the knife clattered to the counter. James had demanded to see Thomas’s finger. He’d quickly washed the blood away and inspected the cut. When he’d turned back to Thomas to tell him that it was mostly superficial, Thomas was much closer than before. Their bodies nearly touching, Thomas’s eyes turning dark, his breath quickening. His eyes had dropped to James’s mouth desire written plainly in their depths. 

The heat pouring off of Thomas’s body had made James want to step back and move closer all at the same time. James had swayed forward, mouth parted, tongue flicking out over his bottom lip. He’d heard Thomas’s sharp intake of breath, felt Thomas shift slightly, hand running up James’s forearm to hold his elbow. The touch had sent a shiver through James, he could feel the thrum of arousal starting under his skin. Thomas got closer, his breath ghosting against James’s cheek, mouth mere inches from James’s and then James had pulled himself away at the last second, “The kettle.”

Thomas had only nodded, turning his back to James, both hands curled around the counter as he took one deep breath after another. Finally, he had turned back around, a tight smile on his lips as he’d asked James to set the table for dinner.

Dinner had been strained and Thomas hadn’t stayed downstairs with James in the parlour sharing after dinner drinks the way he normally would, he’d gone straight to bed. James had almost gone to him that night. He was strung tight from the interaction in the kitchen, a restless buzzing under his skin he couldn’t quiet. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Thomas’s wet mouth, felt the heat of his body and _God_ James wanted him. But fear and guilt and self loathing had broken through at the last minute forcing him away.

His cock fills slowly as he closes his eyes and thinks about what could have happened. He thinks about how hot blooded Thomas is, how he’d not have had the patience to move it upstairs. James knows that Thomas would have had him right there, in the kitchen, in the evening twilight, their pants around their ankles, too desperate to even remove their boots. He rubs his hand over the front of his trousers, he’s so hard he aches. He waits until it’s been quiet upstairs for some time before he rips his pants open and takes his cock in his fist. He’s quick and quiet about it. It’s more about the release of tension than pleasure. As hard as he tries he can’t contain the strangled moan when he comes over his fist as he imagines Thomas fuking him, taking him apart, his cock buried deep.

***

Three days later they’re in the barn working in the loft, replacing floor boards and without thinking James stips his shirt over his head, the heat is so oppressive that his wet shirt is more a hindrance than anything else. Thomas had gone to the well to get them both a cool drink and when he returns James hears his sharply indrawn breath. Thomas’s eyes are travelling over James’s torso and even in the dim light James can see the way they go dark. Thomas’s tongue comes out to touch the corner of his mouth before running slickly along his bottom lip. James feels a punch to the gut as arousal starts to burn slowly under his skin.

James straightens from his hunched position as Thomas sets the full bucket down. Thomas approaches him slowly. Eyes still glued to James’s chest. He reaches out, runs his fingers over the scar on James’s right shoulder. 

His voice is hushed when he asks, “What caused this?” 

James stands still, arms at his side, “Same fight as the one on my cheek.”

Thomas’s eyes flick up to meet his,. “And what was his offense?” His finger brushes back and forth over the scarred flesh. Thomas is so close James can smell him. Hay and sweat and man and it’s driving James a little around the bend. He wants to push Thomas against the wall and take his mouth, he wants to bury himself in the scent and the feel of Thomas against him.

Instead he answers thickly, “He wanted my captaincy.”

James watches Thomas closely as he digests what James has told him. James can almost see the wheels inside Thomas’s head turning. His forefinger runs the length of the puckered flesh, it no longer hurts, but the sensation makes goosebumps pop up over his arms. 

Without warning Thomas leans in and places a soft kiss over the scar. James gasps, locking his knees as they shake. He curls his fingers into fists to keep from reaching out for Thomas. 

“Was it close?”

“Closer than I’d have liked.” Thomas only nods, his finger moving, “And this one?” Thomas places his fingertips over the bullet wound on the other side.

“Shot, nearly drowned that time.”

Thomas startles, eyes boring into James’s “Fucking Christ, James. How many times did you nearly die?”

“More than you’ll want to know.” James says with a sad smile.

“Why weren’t you more careful?” Thomas’s eye are bright, a sheen forming as he moves a step closer until there is barely even air between them. 

“I wouldn’t admit it then, but I wanted to join you, wherever you were, whatever afterworld held you, I wanted to be there with you. My life, nor my death, mattered to me without you.”

The corners of Thomas’s mouth draw down, “Nearly drowned?”

“We were under attack, cannon fire blew me off the side. John pulled me to the beach, dug the bullet out and dressed the wound as best he could.”

“So not only do I have him to thank for your presence here, but for your overall existence as well.”

James half laughs, “He saved me more than once and more than just physically.” 

Thomas only nods. He walks around James touching each scar but no longer asking for the story behind them. James is barely able to handle the feel of Thomas’s fingers on his body. He’s unable to contain the shiver that races down his spine when Thomas traces a scar along his shoulder blades. His fingers are so light, reverent almost. He presses a single kiss to each scar and James’s breath starts to come faster as his stomach clenches. The feel of Thomas’s mouth and hands on his back is exquisite torture. When Thomas gets back around to James’s front his eyes are dark, the pupils blown out, breathing shallowly. His fingers dance over James’s shoulders and then down, his thumbs brushing James’s already hardened nipples. James’s eyes slam closed and he can’t stop the soft moan, his head tipping back in supplication.

Thomas fingers slide up his throat, brush through his beard, over his ears until Thomas is cupping the back of his head. James’s eyes open when Thomas tilts his head back up, his gaze focused on James’s mouth. James’s tongue flicks out and wets his lips. Thomas groans before pressing his lips against James’s.

It’s so soft, James whimpers, mouth opening and Thomas snakes his tongue in. This time it’s James who groans. His hands clutch at Thomas's sides, their mouths devour one another. It’s the first proper kiss since he’s returned and James is overwhelmed by the feel of it, by the taste of Thomas on his tongue and the heat of Thomas’s body against his. It’s everything he’s wanted and everything he’s been afraid of taking. 

They’re startled apart by a crash below them and then Johnny’s voice, “James are you up there? The papers you ordered are here.”

James steps away, heart pounding, mouth tingling, his stomach is fluttering and he’s jittery. He has to clear his throat three times before he can answer Johnny. He grabs his shirt and makes his way down the ladder, not looking at Thomas once. 

Later Thomas tries to approach him again but James skitters away. Thomas must see the fear on him because he doesn’t try again. 

It finally comes to a head several weeks later as Thomas soothes James through yet another nightmare. His hands stroking James’s face, his eyes worried, voice gentle. He pulls James’s shuddering body close, holds him as James gasps for breath, heart racing. James clings to him, his surroundings coming back slowly. Thomas runs his thumbs over James’s jaw and James can’t rein in the urge to kiss him. 

James pushes forward, their lips meeting chastely, pressing and holding until Thomas groans and tries to deepen the kiss. James scrambles backward, blood thundering through his veins. Thomas gets to his feet with a barely audible sigh and goes to the kitchen. He comes back with a glass of water.

Handing it off to James he takes a seat in the arm chair across the room. “Do you wish to leave?”

James pauses with the glass halfway to his mouth, “No. Why would you think that?”

Thomas rubs his hands over his face. “You’ve been here months and you’re still sleeping on that monstrosity of a settee, which can’t be comfortable.” 

“If you’d prefer I can sleep in one of the guest rooms.” James very carefully sets the glass on the side table.

“I’d prefer it if you slept in my bed.” Thomas stands and begins pacing. James’s eyes follow him. “Every time I get near you, you flinch. You barely look me in the eye, these days. Trying to carry on a conversation with you sometimes is as effective as a parasol in a thunderstorm. I’ve tried not to make you uncomfortable. I’ve tried to be patient and understanding, but I am lost. I can’t even be sure that you really want to be here.” Thomas’s voice trails off, hands on his hips, brows pulled together as he watches James from across the room. 

“Of course I want to be here, I came looking for you, didn’t I?” James throws off the blankets and stands. 

“Then why won’t you touch me? Why won’t you let me touch you? I know you want me, I’ve seen the way you look at me, the way your eyes follow me. That day in the barn, I _felt_ you. I know you’re perfectly functional, I’ve heard you out here more than once. I don’t understand. Give me something, James. Something that tells me I’m not just foolishly waiting for a life that’s never going to materialize.” Thomas’s hands fall to his sides, his back bowing slightly, eyes pleading with James.

James averts his gaze, staring instead at the side cupboard, “The things I’ve done, Thomas. There is so much blood on my hands, Miranda’s included, I can’t imagine touching you with them. I can’t imagine you wanting me to.”

He’s startled by the snort he receives in answer, “And you think I have been such an innocent this entire time? You don’t think I’ve held a man’s life in my hands? Grief, it does things to a man’s mind and his soul. Forces him into actions he would usually never consider. I don’t blame you for Miranda’s death. You and I both know that once she set her mind to something, there was no changing it. The only way you’d have stopped her from going with you would have been if you’d tied her to a tree.”

James wishes it were that simple. He’d eventually been able to come to terms with Miranda, thanks much in part to John. He’d eventually realized that her death was no more his fault than it was hers. And he knows that Thomas is right, he’d have never stopped her from coming along. Her death had been written long before and nothing James could have done would have changed that. But there are other deaths that he is directly responsible for. 

“I murdered your father. I murdered Peter.” 

“Yes, I am aware.” Thomas sighs and moves forward toward James, “When I told you that I knew of your alter ego, did you think I didn’t know all of it? That by some miracle I’d only heard of half the things Flint had done? I told you that you needn’t seek my forgiveness. I meant it knowing full well everything you’ve done.”

Thomas steps closer, one hand on the side of James’s face. James feels his eyes slip closed at the contact, his head turning into the touch. He’s not worthy of the gentleness but he’s so tired of denying himself. He’s so tired of fighting against every instinct he has, he’s long past his breaking point. When Thomas speaks again he’s even closer, his breath ghosting over James’s lips. James’s eyes flutter open slowly, his gaze traces Thomas’s face as he speaks, “When I left London I’d resigned myself to memories, to being alone. I ached for you every single day. I would have given anything to have you with me.” Thomas’s kisses his left cheek before continuing.

“When I saw you walking up that path my knees went weak. I am still so incredibly in love with you. I know that building to where we were before will take time, but if you know nothing else, know that I do not care about the things you’ve done. I do not care about the blood you’ve spilled. If you truly need more time, I will go back to my room right now and we’ll forget this ever happened, but if you’re refraining from coming to my bed because you think you don’t deserve to, then that needs to cease now. I know everything you’ve done, James, and I still want you with every fiber of my being.” Thomas takes both of James’s hands in his, he places them flat in the middle of his chest. “But the decision must be yours.”

James can feel Thomas’s rabbiting heat beat under his palms, he can feel the way his chest expands with each quick breath and James is just a man. He’s spent the past months denying himself, denying Thomas. He can’t deny either one of them any longer. 

James slides his hands up behind Thomas’s head, fingers sliding into the thick blonde hair. He pulls Thomas forward slowly, his eyes staying locked on Thomas’s until he can no longer focus. The kiss is soft, tentative, until Thomas’s tongue flicks out, sweeps along James’s lower lip. James hears himself growl, suddenly he is ravenous. 

He takes Thomas’s mouth in a kiss that is hard and wet and so fucking deep he starts to drown. His tongue slides in, twines around Thomas’s, traces the ridges of his teeth. He takes Thomas’s moan into his mouth and James gives one in return. James doesn’t realize they’re moving until Thomas’s knees hit the settee and he drops down unexpectedly. James doesn’t stop, he just keeps following him down, legs bracketing Thomas’s hips, knees digging into the back of the settee. He covers Thomas’s mouth with his again, desperate and so fucking hungry that he can’t slow down, he can’t think. He can feel himself breathing too fast, mind reeling, body tightening as the hair on the back of neck starts to stand on end. 

Their cocks brush together through their clothes and it’s electric. James gasps, head falling forward, as he grinds down. Heat races down his spine. He’s missed this, the way Thomas feels, the way he makes James feel. His hands go to Thomas’s shirt, his fingers shaking as he tries to work the buttons. He can’t get them to slip through the holes and in his frustration he takes the sides and tugs, buttons popping off in all directions. As an afterthought he looks to Thomas, ready to apologize, but the need he finds staring back at him sends fire rushing through him and the words die on his tongue. 

Thomas’s fingers fumble with James’s trousers, his palm brushing James’s cock as he pulls the placket apart and then James is exposed to the air, to Thomas’s hot gaze. Suddenly Thomas is pushing at him, “Up, up, I have to taste you.”

James stands, knees weak, legs shaking as his trousers fall to his ankles. Thomas leans in, tongue sliding over the head and James’s whole body jerks. Wet glide of tongue, rough drag down the shaft, hot mouth closing around him and _fuck, it's so good_. James has to lock his knees to keep from falling, fingers finding Thomas’s shoulder, digging in, holding hard enough to bruise as Thomas works him in and out of his mouth.

Scorching hot suction surrounds him and it has James saying, “I’m not going to last.” All it does is encourage Thomas to move faster, to suck harder. James hits the back of Thomas’s throat. He slips past the barrier, Thomas swallows twice and James’s whole body shudders. His cock twitches, and he feels his eyes fall closed, head going back, mouth opening on a soundless moan as he comes down Thomas’s throat. 

His hips thrust in short jerks, his whole body shivering through the aftershocks. His knees give out and he lands on his ass on the floor. When his eyes open Thomas is watching him, face pulled tight with need. He pushes James back so that he ends up sprawled on the rug on his back. Thomas is working his own trousers open as he comes to rest over James’s prone body, knees on either side of James’s hips. Thomas has his cock in his fist, stripping it fast as his eyes take James in. 

“Beautiful, still so fucking beautiful. I used to dream about the way you sounded when I sucked you.” Thomas’s voice is ragged, “Open your shirt.” The command is crystal clear and James scrabbles to comply.

Thomas sits further back on James’s thighs, allowing James to do as he’s told, his hand still working over the head of his cock, eyes zeroing in on the skin James is revealing one button at a time. “Touch your nipples.”

James wets his fingers before first rolling and then pinching them, pulling them into stiff peaks. He arches his back, lets his eyes flutter closed as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth. Thomas grinds his ass down against James’s soft cock, and James moans, hips stuttering up, cock jerking. 

“Jesus Christ, James.” It’s little more than a broken moan as James feels hot streaks of come land on his chest and stomach. His eyes open so he can watch Thomas empty himself. He is so incredibly stunning that James can’t take his eyes off him. He’s flushed and panting, sweat dotting his forehead, eyes squeezed shut as he fucks forward into his fist. 

James waits until there’s nothing left before taking Thomas’s hand in his and bringing it to his mouth. He licks across Thomas’s palm, sucks his fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue from tip to knuckle. He licks between the webbing seeking every last taste. Thomas’s hips shift, ass rubbing along James’s thickening cock.

Thomas leans over, licks into James’s mouth, chases the taste of himself before saying, “Give me five minutes and a bed, I have definite plans for you.”

By the time they make it to the bedroom they’re both fully hard again, hands and mouths never leaving one another. Thomas puts James on his back. He sits on his knees between James’s wide spread thighs, eyes raking over James’s body.

“Your body, James. It’s unbelievable. So hard and strong. Not that you weren’t before, but the sheer amount of muscle you’ve gained is astonishing, not to mention intensely arousing.” Thomas wraps one hand around each of James’s biceps. He squeezes as James flexes and Thomas whines in the back of his throat. “So much restrained power. You could hold me down couldn’t you, with little effort on your part.” James says nothing, just winks at him.

Thomas’s tongue trails down the center of James’s chest licking through the hair, slipping over his pebbled nipples and then down. James shivers, his body lighting up at the feeling of Thomas’s mouth and hands. He’d spent so many hours longing for him, having him again almost feels too good to be true. He works his way further south, mouth and tongue all over James’s stomach until he’s back between James’s legs.

He circles James’s belly button, flicking his tongue in and out before biting over his pelvic bone. Thomas works his way back up. Thomas’s fingers stroke over sensitive skin raising goosebumps over his body. He lets his eyes close, lets himself float in the feeling of Thomas against him. He’s missed this so much, human touch that wasn’t in the name of violence. Thomas’s touch specifically. Thomas trails his fingers from James’s shoulders, down his biceps, the insides of his forearms until they’re palm to palm. James lets his eyes open as Thomas brings their hands above James’s head. He lays his body out on top of James, skin to skin as he leans in. 

The kiss is slow, leisurely. They don’t have to hurry, they have all the time in the world. Thomas’s hips start a slow circular grind, their cocks rubbing together. James hums, body buzzing with renewed arousal, his own hips roll up in counter and Thomas moans against his neck. Thomas reaches down, under the mattress and pulls out a small tin. 

Getting to his knees between James’s thighs he pulls the lid off and dips his fingers in. They come away shiney and James’s breath catches. He can’t help the apprehension that rolls through him. Sensing James’s hesitation,Thomas puts the tin down.

“There hasn’t been anyone since you.” James says softly.

“If you don’t want--”

James rushes to cut him off, breathless, “I do. Just slowly.”

Thomas grins at him, “Slowly, hmm?” Thomas presses a single finger gently against James’s hole and James groans. He can feel himself fluttering around Thomas’s fingertip. Thomas rubs against him, getting him wet, just the barest hint of touch. He circles and then presses, circles and presses not actually breaching James’s body, just putting him on edge. He uses a little more pressure each time until finally, after what James swears are hours, the tip of his middle finger slips inside. James’s hips stutter against the bed, he groans, the stretch of it has his eyes closing, pleasure slicing through his veins. His hips press down and Thomas slides his finger all the way in to the last knuckle and then holds. 

He leans in, takes the head of James’s cock into his mouth as he pulls out and pushes back in quickly.

“Oh, fuck.”

One of James’s hands lands on Thomas’s shoulder the other in his hair. Thomas’s mouth is hot and wet and perfect, his tongue swirling over him as the finger in his ass speeds up, working him open, curling up on every other stroke until James is asking for another. Thomas pulls off his cock, picks up the tin and slicks two fingers liberally. 

This time the sting is a bit more. He lets out slow measured breaths as Thomas seats his fingers. His eyes catch James’s and he pulls out slowly before pushing back in and all James feels is pleasure and blessed friction. James hums, eyes closing as his hips rock against Thomas’s hand. 

Thomas’s fingers work him open inch by inch until he’s clutching at Thomas’s shoulders, trying to pull him up, trying to get Thomas’s cock inside him. Thomas pulls free finally and reaches for the tin. James watches as he slicks his cock, body shuddering at the feel of his own hand. Thomas kisses him, tongue sliding thick and heavy into James’s mouth, he feels the blunt pressure of Thomas’s cock head teasing at him. 

The first push takes James’s breath, it’s hot and burning, the sting of it making him curl his hands into fists, his cock flagging. He sucks in a sharp breath, lets it out slow, tries to relax his body. Thomas keeps pushing and soon enough he feels Thomas bottom out, body tense and straining. “So fucking tight.”

Thomas hangs his head, harsh breath panting against James’s chest. James places his hands against Thomas’s ribs, rubs up and down slowly. Thomas is shaking, whole body vibrating where it’s poised over James’s. His arms quiver as he draws in huge gulps of air. He pulls his hips back and drives home quickly. James shudders, body lighting up with sensation. The pain recedes quickly, his body remembering how good this can be. His senses are being overwhelmed with the smell and the feel of Thomas all around him.

Thomas sits back, wraps his hands around James’s hips and pulls him closer before getting his hands under James’s thighs. He pushes up, fingers digging in as he holds James’s legs open. He fucks in fast, and James moans at the bruising push of Thomas’s thrusts. 

He doesn’t even bother trying to hold anything in. It's been too long and it’s too good, his cock is hard again, throbbing in a steady needy pulse. Thomas pulls in a breath, shivering as he slides slowly out. James can feel him right at his rim. He clenches down, body pulling at Thomas, greedily sucking him back in and Thomas chokes on a breath, hips snapping forward and then back with quick, sharp thrusts. 

Thomas slows to a pause and then he’s pulling out and James barely contains a whimper at the loss. Thomas sprawls out on his back, dirty grin as he motions James forward. 

“I want you to ride me. I want to see you put that body to use.”

James swings his leg over Thomas’s body, he adds more slick to Thomas’s cock and then Thomas is nuding at him. Thomas’s hands settle on his hips to steady him, James’s palms settle low over Thomas’s stomach and James bears down slowly, hips wiggling as he feels Thomas split him open, cock head popping in and he can’t help the low moan he lets loose.

He shivers at the hungry look on Thomas’s face as he watches his cock disappear inside James’s body. He shivers again once he’s fully seated, Thomas’s hands tight on his hips, just holding him. It's so good James can’t breathe. He’s so full, the thick feel of Thomas rubbing against his inner walls sends pleasure spiraling through him. He puts his head back, feels sweat at the nape of his neck, he rocks forward and then back, body grinding down. He pulls up, feels Thomas’s cock slip almost all the way out before coming back down. 

Thomas slides his hands up James’s sides, fingers trailing over James’s chest, running over James’s pectorals. He breathes out, runs his thumbs over the contracting muscles in James’s stomach. “I love the way you move, love the look of you.”

James angles his hips, pushes down and feels the head of Thomas’s cock skid over that bright spot deep inside. He moans, shuddering, twisting on Thomas’s cock. Slide and push, his hands flexing on Thomas’s stomach. James takes his time undulating, grinding until Thomas takes his cock in one slick fist, forcing James into a faster rhythm. Thomas strokes him tightly three or four times, tells him to come and James has no choice but to obey. He comes hot and thick over Thomas’s fingers and his belly, body twitching and panting. He somehow finds the strength inside himself to rock down against Thomas, riding him hard and fast until Thomas shouts his name, body arching, cock pulsing deep inside him. James rides it out, undulating until they’re both wet, Thomas’s cock slipping in a mess of his own slick. 

James collapses forward, head buried in Thomas’s neck as Thomas strokes over his back. He lays still for several seconds before sliding off to the side, arm thrown over Thomas’s stomach, head on Thomas’s shoulder. 

Once they’ve caught their breath, James brushes his fingers over the scar high on Thomas’s shoulder. “Turn about and all that.”

James feels him tense and James raises his head. There is guilt and remorse lining Thomas’s face.

“I was stabbed by another patient at Bethlem.”

James turns to his side, “Jesus.”

“There was a male patient, he was trying to rape a female patient and I interfered. He stabbed me for the effort. Missed everything major at least. It caused more shock than pain really.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t. I went willingly.” He turns to face James. “I would do it again if it meant that you were spared. My only regret is that I couldn’t help the patients there.”

“Help them?”

“The things I saw there. It was horrific. The patients were either sedated or restrained. They needed real help, they only ever received abuse. I was told that if I kept my head down and did as I was told, I would have the freedom to move about the facility as I pleased. Father’s money had paid for a scrap of leniency.” Thomas’s eyes are glazed over, lost in memories as he talks.”The one time I tried to help them, I was beaten for it afterward. The reprimand was severe enough that I...stopped trying. I did what I was told and I kept to myself.”

When their eyes meet the guilt James sees has him grasping Thomas’s hand in his. “You didn’t have a choice. What did you tell me? You did what you needed to do to survive.”

They talk long into the night, stories they’d been holding back pouring forth now that the last barrier between them was gone. All the intimacy that they’d lost had been found again. That night James doesn’t dream.


	2. Climbed a mountain and I turned around

James is startled awake by another nightmare, he remembers shouting John’s name, watching as a bullet lodged in his chest. James had run for him unable to reach him. He sits up in bed, face in his hands, heart beating fast, adrenaline racing through him as he gasps for breath. It's the second nightmare this week, James can only grimace as he thinks to himself that at least it’s only been two so far, down from four the previous week.

James had hoped that when he and Thomas had started sharing a bed again, that when he’d opened himself up and let Thomas see all the parts he’d been hiding, that the nightmares would at the very least, diminish to only occasionally. He hoped he’d be able to let go of John the way he needed to, but it’s been six months and John is still very much a part of James’s mind, heart, and soul.

There are days when his worry for John consumes him to the point that he has to leave the house. He has to get out and clear his mind. He has to go somewhere so that he can let the grief wash over him. Mostly he needs to keep Thomas from thinking that James regrets his decision to stay. He hasn’t regretted a day of it, every day he spends here he feels himself reclaiming a peace he’d only ever known as a small child. It’s not something he’s willing to give up and giving up Thomas isn’t even an option.

Thomas shifts beside him, in the pale light of the moon James can see that he’s awake. He turns on his side to face James, concern etched on his face, head propped on his his hand as he says, “Talk to me about him. Tell me everything, not the abridged version from months ago.”

James jolts as if he’d been struck, “Why on earth would you want me to do that?”

“He was, he is, important to you. You loved him. I know you still do.” James starts to shake his head, “James, don’t insult me. You think I’m so naive as to not understand the tone of your voice when you call for him in your dreams? You think I can’t see it in your eyes? When you disappear, sometimes for hours on end, I know you’re thinking of him, I know your mind is wherever he is. You don’t need to try and spare my feelings by acting as if he wasn’t vitally important to you. Are you telling me that you never spoke of me to him?”

“Of course I did.” James can’t believe he’d even have to ask.

“Then tell me of him.” James’s head rears back and he can’t imagine what his face must be saying but the gentle smile Thomas gives him is not unfamiliar. “However it ended, you still need to mourn him. Do you think I expected you to spend the rest of your life alone? To never love anyone else? I had hoped that you’d find someone to care for, someone who cared for you in return. I know that you loved Miranda, but I also know you needed more.”

Thomas sits up, pillows piled behind him as James lays down, head in Thomas’s lap. He doesn’t think he can manage to look at Thomas while talking about John. Thomas’s hands rifle through his rapidly growing hair, fingers massaging James’s scalp. James closes his eyes and runs through a catalogue of images he keeps of John in his mind.

“The first time I met him properly I held a knife to his throat. He was a liar and thief and he mesmerized me from the very beginning. He got under my skin and never left.” James spends the next hour telling Thomas one story or another about his and John’s first weeks together and the tentative bond they’d eventually formed. The words flow freely, memories and feelings at the forefront. As he gets to the re-telling of John’s loss at the hands of the Ranger crew, his throat closes up and he can’t continue.

John losing his leg was a direct result of James conning John into staying with their crew. Had he let John walk away, he’d probably still have both of his legs, and he sure as hell wouldn’t be embroiled in a fight against England that he had never wanted. James can’t help the guilt and regret that washes over him. He can’t escape the memories of John being wracked by nightmares in his delirium. He can still vividly remember every second sitting by his side, asking God for mercy, asking that John be spared. It had been the moment he’d realized what he’d felt for John was so much more than kinship.

James sits up, moves to the edge of the bed, back turned to Thomas. He feels Thomas straighten up behind him but he makes no move toward James, as if knowing that in order to finish the story James needs space.

“While Vane was in Charleston with me, his quartermaster removed John from the rest of the crew. Someone who held no loyalty for me had told Vane’s man that John would be willing to give up the names of men who would be happy to betray me and help them sail without us.” James pauses, the anger welling inside him, he takes several deep breaths before continuing.

“Vane had managed to convince most of his crew to enact a rescue based on a signal he would give them. Those most loyal to him came with him into Charleston, but some of the crew he’d left behind wanted to leave instead. There weren’t enough of them to sail the ship, so they needed John to provide them with ten men from our crew who would.” James rubs his hands over his face, memories of those days coming at him from every angle. Images of Miranda and John flashing behind his eyes. “When asked for the names John refused. First they shot the man from our crew in the head as a warning to John. When he refused a second time, they held him down and before the rest of our crew could get to him, they butchered his leg. Our doctor was unable to save it and in order to save John’s life, he had to remove from just below the knee down. They tell me that John kept refusing, told them he didn’t want it, to stop right up until the very second he passed out from the pain.”

James feels the sharp sting behind his eyes, hears his voice crack, he feels Thomas shift behind him and before the first touch comes James gets up and he pulls his pants on. Walking across the room, he stares out the window, eyes unfocused. The memories of making it back to the ship, of seeing John unconscious and bloody, fighting for his life are still so vivid. If he concentrates hard enough he can smell the sweat of the men, taste the sharp tang of the disinfectant Howell had doused John in. “For days I sat by his side and I watched as the infection and fever ravaged him. For the first time in a very long time I prayed. I’d come to realize what I felt for him and I was bargaining everything I could just to have him back.”

James has to pause, has to take several deep breaths in and out, try to calm his racing heart. The emotions churning inside him are making his stomach flip over. The sick feeling he’d had then returns now full force, “When he finally woke, his first words to me were lies about the gold we’d been hunting. I was devastated. Not because of the gold, I’d already given up on that, but between losing Miranda, nearly losing him and then his dishonestly, I was lost.”

Leaning against the window he stares down into the dark yard, “I spent weeks in a delusion induced rage, most of it directed at him. I could see the hurt and the confusion with every slight I made toward him, but I couldn’t seem to stop. I put our lives in danger because of it. And then he told me the truth, everything inside me went quiet. Within hours our relationship started to blossom again. Our conversations and our understanding of each other grew exponentially.”

James smiles at the memory of the first time he had looked to John for his approval of a plan. The first time he asked for John’s input, the first time he’d done as John suggested. John’s eyes would grow warm and they’d heat James from the inside.

“Working together, side by side toward the same goal was exhilarating. I watched his confidence grow, and it became clear to me that perhaps my feelings weren’t so one sided. Sometimes the way he’d look at me, I--” He cuts himself off abruptly certain that Thomas doesn’t want the gory details. “We ended up marooned and he saved me from sacrificing myself, gave me a better option. It was clear then that we were sharing the same feelings. We discussed it at length, finally determining that entering into a relationship at that point wasn’t an ideal situation and we decided to table it for the time being. We slipped a few times, but then he met someone else. Someone that tempered the side of him he was most afraid of, the side of him that reminded him of me at my worst and I let him go.”

“But he loved you?” Thomas’s voice is soft, barely a question.

James swallows thickly, his throat suddenly tight, he can only nod. “He’s the one who sent me to you. We’d had a slight reprieve in the chaos and he’d told me he needed to show me something. We took off on horseback and made our way to the shore. There was a small sloop waiting. He gave me a sack of gold, a piece of paper with your pseudonym and he told me to find you.” James stops to clear his throat, he can feel the moisture at the corner of his eyes and he does nothing to stop it from flowing down the sides of his face. “He told me to find the life I deserved, to find my peace. And then he left.”

James lets his forehead rest against the window pane. The tears flow freely now, his breath shallow and hitching as he prays that John is still alive. Guilt claws it way through his veins, if John dies, the fault will lie directly with James. The sob that escapes him at the thought of John’s death has his knees giving out.

Thomas is there to catch him and they end up on the floor, James cradled between Thomas’s legs, head pressed against Thomas’s chest. “If he dies fighting the war I started, I’ll never forgive myself. I watched him walk away, knowing it might happen and I did nothing to stop him.”

Thomas holds him as he mourns John and the loss of what they had, what they could have had if he’d fought for it. He wonders if he’d have been able to convince John to walk away, to come with him. He wonders how Thomas would have felt about that. Eventually his eyes dry up and his breath calms. Thomas leads him back to bed. He tells James to stay where he is. When he returns, he holds several folded pages in his hand.

He lights candles around the room and then sits across from James on the bed, “I debated showing these to you, mainly because I was afraid of what it would mean for us, but I see now that I can’t keep this from you. A number of weeks before you arrived, a man showed up on my doorstep. He asked me some rather pointed questions which I refused to answer until he gave me this.”

Thomas hands over the first of several folded sheets of paper. When James opens it a fresh wave of sadness washes over him at John’s handwriting.

**_Mr. Hamilton -  
If you are indeed Thomas Hamilton, son of Alfred Hamilton, of London, I ask that you please inform my man of such. You see, I currently sail with one James McGraw and I believe he would very much like to find his way back to you._ **

**_Regards,  
John Silver_ **

James runs his finger over the looping scrawl of John’s signature. Things were beginning to fall into place now.

“I didn’t even hesitate to confirm to the man he sent that yes I was indeed that Thomas Hamilton. I didn’t know what I was expecting to happen. I know what I wanted, what I hoped for. I was on edge every day. Parts of me thought that perhaps it was some sort of cruel joke, a trick of some sort and then I saw you coming up the path. I’d never thought to have you back but there you were and I didn’t question it for a second.”

Thomas taps the other letter, “A few weeks ago this came in the post. It’s addressed to you and I opened it. I read it and then I hid it. It confirmed to me a suspicion I’d had from the beginning, that the man who had sent word to me, was someone special to you, and you to him. I didn’t want to lose you again, and I’m not proud of myself for my deception, but you continue to cry out for him in your sleep and I know that I have to give it to you no matter the outcome. I know that he and I share a common goal, we want you to have peace.”

He hands the letter over and James sees his own hands shake as he unfolds the parchment.

**_James -_ **  
**_I hope this finds you well. Where to start. There are so many things I wish I had said to you on that beach. Most of all, I love you and I want only your happiness. I have missed having you by my side every hour of every day and while I cannot regret giving you the one thing you wanted above all else, there is a part of me that wishes I had been selfish. We both know it is not above me to be so. Having the knowledge that Thomas lived haunted me every day. The memory of the way you sounded when you spoke of him told me I could no longer withhold that information from you. I hope that you have finally found the peace that was so elusive to you. As long as you are happy and out of harm's way, I can rest easy._**

**_I have turned this war over to Billy, and I have left Nassau. It seems I no longer have the appetite for it. I’ve taken my mother’s surname in hopes of distancing myself from the tale of Long John Silver. I do not know where I will land, but I wanted you to know that I will not die with this war. I know that you cared for me, and I thought that perhaps you might wish to know that you do not need to carry the burden of my life on your shoulders any longer._ **

**_Part of me that hopes our paths cross again; however, there is an equal part of me that hopes they do not, as I do not believe I will be able to feel for another, what I feel for you. I do not wish to see you only to know that I cannot have you, so perhaps it would be better if we remain absent from each others lives._ **

**_I wish you life, love and happiness for the rest of your days._ **

**_Always,_ **  
**_John_**

James’s vision is blurry. He re-folds the note before his tears smear the ink. Relief sweeps through him at the knowledge that John is no longer in the trenches of war. He thinks that maybe now he can finally let go properly.

Thomas’s voice when it comes is halting, “I have the means and the connections to find him. You don’t need to decide now, and be warned, I won’t give you up, but I think the three of us could find a livable solution.”

James can only stare at him. He can’t possibly be serious. He can’t possibly think to find John and bring him here. As impossible as it seems the thought takes hold in the back of his mind and try as he might to ignore it, every few minutes he revisits it. James says nothing and they spend the rest of the early morning in bed, Thomas holding him as intermittent tears and bouts of sadness wash over him.

For the next several weeks he spends long hours tilling the earth, expanding the small garden he’d started months ago, his mind in a constant state of what if. He reads John’s letter over and over and each time his heart aches.

He thinks endlessly about Thomas’s proposition. Thomas had told him the following morning over breakfast that the offer would always stand and James need only say the word. James plays every scenario he can think of over in his mind and none of them are worse than what he’s currently living.

Being with Thomas again is a balm to his soul. But there are things he can never share with Thomas, things that Thomas will never understand. Nightmares that he can’t put words to, and fears that taunt him. There are things that only John knows, that only John could ever understand and there has been more than one occurrence where he’s turned to confide something to John only to be brought up short with the realization that John isn’t there. The utter despair in those moments when he realizes that he will never again be able to look into John’s eyes and have him know exactly what he’s thinking is nearly debilitating.

The following week over dinner James asks, “How would it work? If we found him and we asked him here, how would it work?”

Thomas puts his fork down slowly “I’m not entirely sure.”

“What if the two of you can’t stand each other?” James can’t genuinely image a world in which their minds don’t click, but there’s always the possibility.

“I have a very hard time believing that I would find fault with a man who loves you as much as he very obviously does. It was written in every word of that letter he sent you and had it not been obvious there, the fact that he found me, and then broke his own heart to send you here would certainly convince me. I don’t know how, or even if it would work, but I’m willing to try, if it’s something you want.”

James spends another three days thinking it over before he writes John’s mother’s surname on a piece of paper and leaves it on Thomas’s desk. They don’t talk about it again. James doesn’t want to know if Thomas finds him and he refuses to come. He doesn’t want to know if Thomas finds a corpse. He’s not ready for either of those scenarios. If John never shows up, one day he may ask Thomas what the outcome had been, but for now, he just goes about planting his garden and working on the cabin at the back of their property in the event that they have a guest who’d like to stay permanently.

***

Three months later John lands on their doorstep, disheveled and angry as a hornet. The murderous glare he shoots at James across the walk is enough to keep Thomas behind the safety of the porch door, but it makes James’s heart swell in his chest.

His hair is even longer, down to the middle of his back now and he’s cleaner than James has ever seen him. He’s no longer on a crutch but another peg that he seems to maneuver much easier than the first. He’s still just as stunning as James remembers. Eyes as blue as the sky, caramel complexion practically glowing in the late afternoon sun. His beard and mustache are trimmed close and neat, his neck free of stray hairs as if he has the luxury of a razor every day. He’s dressed simply, a pair of dark gray trousers, ivory shirt tucked in at the waist. James’s heart trips and he realizes that nothing has changed, he is still earth shatteringly in love with John. Every twitch, every glare, is endearing to him.

John is being accompanied up the walk by the man that James assumes is responsible for actually finding him. His fingers are curled loosely around John’s arm as if he’s afraid John will take off running.

“You look like hell.” James has to cross his arms over his chest to keep from reaching for him immediately once he’s in touching distance.

John says nothing at first just continues to stare at James like he’s about to mutiny, when finally he speaks, “When you’ve been manhandled into the back of a carriage with no warning and then forced to endure days on the trail it tends to take its toll.” John tugs sharply on his arm with a glare in the direction of the man beside him. James nods his head and the man turns on his heel and goes back the way he came.

James can’t stand it any longer. He pulls John to him and kisses him. It’s much like the first time they’d kissed where John hadn’t responded. And also much like the first time when he finally does it is with vigor.

John’s hands grasp his shirt and pull him closer. His mouth opens on a whimper and his body pushes into James so they’re touching everywhere. James thinks it’s the most delicious torture he’s ever felt. The kiss only lasts for seconds before John is pushing him away, anguish written in every line of his face.

He shakes his head at James as James tries to pull him back in, eyes wide as wetness gathers at the corners, “Why would you…” His eyes dart to where Thomas stands behind the screen door before he turns to go.

It’s not James’s voice that stops John as he pleads for him to just wait, it’s Thomas’s simple “John, please don’t go.” that stops John in his tracks.

His head falls forward and his shoulders sag but he doesn’t take another step. James steps up behind him, hands on John’s shoulders as he speaks to him quietly. “Come in, please, we can talk.”

John turns and James reaches up to brush away the tears from under his eyes. James leans in to kiss him again and John pulls back, his eyes immediately going to Thomas where he stands over James’s shoulder. Thomas’s head is tilted, considering, a small smile playing on his face.

James sighs in resignation as he takes John by the hand and leads him into the dining room. Thomas had preceded them, getting out glasses and tumblers in the event water isn’t strong enough. Thomas stands in front of John, hand extended, “Thomas Hamilton.”

It takes John off guard and he’s slow to raise his hand, “John Silver.”

James can’t take his eyes off of John, it’s been over a year and James is starved for him. There are so many things he wants to say, to ask, to know. He doesn’t know where to begin.

“I told Abigail I’d be by this afternoon, so I’ll be out for a bit.” He catches James’s eye and James just nods

Neither of them move until they hear the screen door slap against the frame and John rounds on him, body rigid, mouth in a thin line, “What the fuck is going on here?”

James isn't sure what to say. He hadn’t thought this far. He hadn’t thought of what would happen should John actually end up here. He hadn’t thought of a way to ask John to stay. He hadn’t thought of how this would all look to John.

“I...when Thomas offered to find you, I hadn’t realized that it might actually come to fruition. I haven’t really prepared for the actuality of having you here and I don’t know where to start.”

John’s brows draw together, “He offered to find me? What on earth for?”

“You know why.” James pulls out a chair and motions John to to do the same.

John’s head turns, eyes going to the window. “I only sent it because I didn’t want you to worry. I know you. You would have tortured yourself with the possibility of my death. I didn’t want that for you. I only wanted you to have peace of mind.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have told me exactly _how_ to find you.” James can’t help his tone.

He can see John’s cheeks color, “Can you blame me? If there were even the smallest chance I had to try, did I not? Wouldn't you? I’d thought maybe if you hadn’t found him, maybe we could try again, but the man you sent to find me said he came on behalf of Thomas and I refused at first. He came back several weeks later, a letter from Thomas telling me that you were ill and asking for me. When I hesitated again, Igor tossed me in the back of a carriage” John’s eyes rake over his body, “Clearly you’re on death's door.”

James fakes a cough and he sees the corner of John’s mouth turn up slightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?” John’s eyes meet his and the confusion clouding them makes James ache.

“I’ve missed you.” James stands and paces the width of the table. “ I dream of you almost every night. Up until a few months ago, when Thomas gave me your letter, it was your death I saw, your death that I couldn't stop. I woke up calling for you more nights than not.” He leans against the window frame and crosses his arms against his chest.

“Thomas offered to find you and at first I rejected the idea. I had hoped that knowing you were no longer in Nassau would assuage my mind and my guilt, that it would allow me to move on, get over my feelings for you. I was wrong.”

James can vividly recall the first time he’d dreamed of John after the letter. His dreams had gone from death and destruction to illicit and erotic literally overnight. He’d wake up hard and aching, images of John beneath him, body bare, begging for James to take him. He’d jerk awake in the middle of the night on the very edge of orgasm. He’d resorted to walking to the back veranda and getting himself off quickly, teeth clamped tight around his lips, to keep from calling John’s name.

“I don’t know if this will work, I don’t know how we even begin to try, but I want you to stay, Thomas wants you to stay. We want you here.” James pleads.

“So I can what? Live here with the two of you watching as you build a life together? Lovely as that sounds I think I’ll pass.”

“The three of us, _we_ can build a life together.”

“You’re not serious.” John’s eyebrows go up as he stands, “You are, aren’t you? It will never work.” John paces away from him, back tense.

“You don’t know it won’t work. Not unless we try.”

James can’t see John’s face but he can see the rigid line of John’s shoulders, he can see the word _no_ written in John’s posture. “Stay with us a few days, get to know Thomas. Give us a chance. Please, John.”

James sees his shoulders slump just slightly before he turns around. “Three men living together in the same house, you don’t worry how that will look.”

James takes a slow step forward “I no longer care what people think.”

“You say that until they show up at your door with torches.” John doesn’t retreat as James takes another step forward but he can see the way John is fighting his flight response to stay put.

“Stay.” James whispers the words as he takes the final step bringing him into John’s orbit. His fingers brush John’s neck lightly and John’s eyes flutter closed, his breath stuttering out.

John swallows hard, and nods, “A few days.” When John opens his eyes James can see determination within. John steps back and when James means to follow John holds up his hand. “I’ll stay for now, but I need space.”

James nods before asking if John would like to see the grounds. They spend the next few hours walking and talking. James shows him the the cabin he’d spent the last several months working on and John is impressed. It’s not terribly large, but it’s comfortable and roomy enough for two people to share. By the time they get back to the main house Thomas is back and has begun preparing dinner.

John is quiet as he watches Thomas and James interact. He watches intently as James pulls dishes from the cupboards and takes them into the dining room. When it’s time to eat, dinner is quiet and slightly awkward, none of them really knowing exactly what to say until John asks about the trading post.

Thomas carries the conversation as James has a hard time doing anything but just looking at John and thinking about how much he wants him to stay, how desperately he wants John in his life. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if John leaves and never returns. He knows that eventually the pain will lessen, the memories will turn fond, but he knows that he’ll always feel like a piece of him is missing.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by John kicking him. “What the hell was that for?”

“You’re staring off into space. I’ll need clothes while I’m here since your man didn’t see fit to let me pack a single thing before throwing me over like a sack of potatoes.” John says caustically.

“Well perhaps if you’d just gotten in the carriage when he’d asked, there wouldn’t have been need for throwing.” James crosses his arms over his chest.

Thomas hides his smile in his napkin as he stands, “I’ll go collect some of James’s things.”

John waits for Thomas to exit the room before speaking, “He doesn’t seem to mind my staying.”

“It was his idea.” James motions him to the parlour and pours two snifters of brandy.

“I just can’t envision how all of this will work. You can’t be in two places at once.”

“I would split my time. Or the three of us could--” He’s cut short by a dramatically raised eyebrow from John. “Or not.”

“I don’t even know the man, James, how could you possibly expect that.”

“Well, were it to go that route, it would take time.” No matter how hard he tries, James can’t kill the hope that eventually the three of them could grow into something more.

Before John can answer, Thomas is back with a stack of James’s clothes.

“I can take them over, unless you’d rather.” He offers the stack to John.

John shakes his head, “It’s your cabin.”

Thomas only smiles, “No, it hasn’t been mine for awhile now.”

John clearly doesn’t know how to respond to that as Thomas walks out the front door. They finish their Brandy and move out to the porch. When Thomas comes back he tells James he’s going to turn in.

“It’s been lovely meeting you, John. I’ll see you in the morning.” Instead of shaking John’s hand, he touches the tips of his fingers briefly to John’s shoulder. John sits stock still until Thomas has passed him and then he turns his head to watch Thomas walk through the door.

They sit in silence before James has to know. “What happened with Madi?” James is careful, tone gentle.

John sighs, hand rubbing over his face. “She’s smarter than I ever was. When I told you to go I didn’t realize the effect it would have on me. I didn’t know the devastation I’d feel at your loss. I had always known that I cared for you, that you were more important to me than anyone else, what I didn’t know is just how deep those feelings really went. My head had refused to acknowledge what my heart already knew. Everything that I am is so intertwined with you. I thought the distance would give me perspective. What it gave me was grief so deep I couldn’t find my way out. I withdrew into myself, I turned to drink for the first time in my life to numb the pain of your loss. I was angry, confrontational.”

John moves backward sitting in one of the rockers, eyes staring out into the darkness beyond the porch, “I couldn’t sleep, I wouldn’t eat. I snapped at everyone and anyone who got within a foot of me. One day she told me she was leaving. That she had people to care for, her people needed her to lead them. She said that she was tired of this war she couldn’t see us winning. She told me that she wasn’t my path, nor I hers. I didn’t even try to stop her at that point. I only lasted another two weeks before I turned everything over to Billy and left. I didn’t want any of it without you.”

James kneels in front of him, hands on John’s thighs rubbing back and forth. “I woke Billy much the same way as I’d woken you and rode out to the shoreline. I left in the dead of night and didn’t look back. I heard that Nassau finally fell to the British. There was a single tale of Jack and Anne escaping but I know nothing of anyone else.”

James takes both of John’s hands and draws him up until he’s standing. He very carefully telegraphs his intention. He’s missed John so much and it’s hell for him to have John here but completely out of reach. He pulls John into his chest, arms going over his shoulders, hands sliding down John’s back just to hold him.

John trembles against him, arms going around James’s waist, hands fisting in the back of James’s shirt. His voice is muffled when he continues but James still hears him loud and clear.

“When I wrote that letter to you, my only intention was to ease your mind. Once I realized the extent of what I felt for you, the absolute relief at knowing that you were now out of harm's way was the only good thing I had left. When I left the Nassau I thought that if you had cared for me even half as much as I for you, it might also bring you comfort knowing I was no longer in danger on a daily basis. I never truly believed you’d try to find me. And truth be told, being here is confusing and I’m very much out of my depth. I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I just want you here with me. In whatever capacity you can be here.” He speaks into John’s hair.

John says nothing. James doesn’t know how long they stand there just holding onto each other but by the time they let go John is stiff legged and it takes longer than normal to make it to the cabin. James says a quiet good night at the cabin door and turns to go.

“I've missed you too, James.” It so quiet that James almost misses it, he knows better than to turn around and acknowledge it, but it soothes him for now.

The next day John walks into the kitchen while they’re making tea and James has to swallow back the groan at the way John looks in his clothes. It’s not that John is that much smaller than him, but he’s shorter and smaller boned and James’s shirt goes practically to his knees. All James can think about for several long minutes it ripping it over John’s head to get at skin.

John’s hair is sleep tousled, curls going every which way, eyes still blurry, the flush of sleep still clinging to his cheeks. James can’t look away and Thomas has to clear his throat to get James’s attention. He doesn’t miss the way Thomas’s own eyes linger on John, appreciation written in their depths.

James ducks his head but Thomas only winks at him before he turns to John, “Tea?”

John yawns and asks, “Coffee?”

James already has it made and slides it across the kitchen island to John. The three of them stand around the island sipping their drinks, it’s not exactly awkward, but it's not exactly comfortable either. John keeps stealing glances at Thomas from under his eyelashes and Thomas just flat out stares at John.

“So, John, where did you end up settling?” Thomas finally breaks the silence.

“South Carolina. Beaufort actually..”

“Not so far away then.” Thomas’s eyes cut to James.

“No, just a few days’ ride.” John purses his lips to blow over the surface of his coffee and James is sure he doesn’t miss their two set of eyes zeroing in on his mouth. He clears his throat, “You said there’s a store?”

James nods, “Just a few miles down the road, would you like to go?”

“I need to send word to my employer that I’ll be gone for a few days, and as much as I appreciate you raiding your wardrobe for me, I’d like my own clothes, if possible.” John holds his hand out and the sleeve goes inches past his fingertips, not to mention the way it slides off his shoulder when he puts his arm back down. James sees Thomas’s gazes go straight to the junction of John’s neck and shoulder, he sees the way Thomas’s tongue touches the corner of his mouth and he knows exactly what Thomas is thinking. This time its James who nudges Thomas.

“What do you do in North Carolina?” Thomas is the one to ask.

“I was teaching at the school.”

James feels himself gaping. “You hate children.”

“I never said I hated children. You _heard_ I hated children but you never asked me.”

“You knew the stories were going around and you did absolutely nothing to dissuade them. I assumed they were true.”

“Well, that’s what you get for assuming now isn’t it?” John’s tone is smug and he smirks at James.

Thomas tries in vain to hide his smile behind his tea cup and James wants to kick him. He’s beginning to wonder if this was a good idea at all. John may have been slightly unsettled last night but it seems his acerbic tongue has bounced back.

They finish breakfast in silence. After, James and John head to the stable to saddle horses for the ride into town. The first half of their journey is made in silence, riding side by side. John’s as relaxed as James has seen him since he showed up.

James can’t help but sneak glances at John out of the corner of his eye.

“Just ask.”

“What made you send someone to look for him?”

“When I met with Max, she told me the story about a man who owned a plantation that housed family members of prominent members of society that needed to quietly disappear. I immediately thought of the conversations we’d had. I asked myself how many men would have it in them to kill their own son. I dispatched two men and I had my answer in a fortnight. Thomas wasn’t on that particular plantation, they had never heard of him, but they did know of a Hamilton, a nephew of Alfred, in the area. My men continued on and found him here. I held it for weeks, too scared of what it meant for us, until finally I couldn’t stand the loneliness on your face any longer. Every time you saw Madi and I together you got this look and I...it was eating me from the inside. I thought that by letting you go, we could all find peace, find some measure of happiness.”

John stops by the side of a creek and dismounts to let Sadie drink. He walks several paces until he’s under the shade of a tall oak. “Even knowing what I know now, I’d do it all again. The way he looks at you, the way you look at him, it was all worth it.” John takes a deep breath and draws himself up, “I don’t know why I'm here. I know you cared for me, but it’s not what the two of you have. I don't know what you think could possibly come from all of this.”

“Do you love me?”

John squints up at him, “What? Why does it matter?”

“Answer the question.”

“I’m here aren’t I?”

James dismounts his horse, comes around to John’s side and sits in the grass under the tree. He helps John down to settle next to him.

“You remember those nights early on when I told you all the details of my life with Thomas and Miranda and how they fell apart?” At John’s nod, James continues, “My reasoning was two-fold. I wanted you to know the truth. As I said, I felt you deserved it. But I needed you to know _me_. Your faith in me, whether real or imagined, your friendship, whether real or imagined saved my life. I needed to repay that and by that point I already knew what it was I was feeling for you. When I lost Thomas, never in my wildest imaginings did I think I’d ever find someone to connect with that way again. I was then, and I am now, in love with you.”

There’s disbelief in John’s eyes and James doesn’t know what to say or do to erase it. “I’ve already told you that I wasn’t sure you would even show up so I’ve not prepared any speech to sway you. All I have is my word. I want you here. I want to see if we can find some way for us to be together. Whether that be the three of us, or with me splitting my time, or whatever workable solution we can find, I want you here.”

“That sounds exhausting for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll manage. Poor me, spending time with two of the most handsome men I’ve ever known. Whatever shall I do?” James brings the back of wrist to his forehead and pretends to fan himself with the other.

John is silent for several minutes, “This morning, you two were like a pair of vultures circling for the kill.”

James can’t help the bark of laughter. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re very pretty, as you well know.”

The corner of John’s lips turn up, “You, I can understand, but he doesn’t even know me.”

“Suddenly a person has to know someone’s entire background to want them?”

“Of course not, but I don’t understand how he can simply sit back and have me here knowing that you’re...that we...” John trails off, hand circling the air.

“It wouldn’t be the first time for either me or Thomas, or even the two of us together.”

“And that ended so well.” When James says nothing, Johns rubs a hand over his face, “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”

James just tilts his head and lifts an eyebrow. John sighs at him. They sit for another few minutes before James rises and helps John up. They spend over an hour at the general store, John pouring over the small selection of shirts and trousers. They leave with four of each and a bag of candied ginger that Thomas is fond of. John writes a short note to be taken the next day to Beaufort.

That evening at dinner, Thomas gets them all drunk. He tells James they need it, he claims they’re all too tense. James tell Thomas about John trying to kill them all with raw pig and John tells Thomas about how James got his sword stuck in tree trunk and tried for an hour to free it only to eventually come looking for John.

“I was not pouting.”

“You most certainly were. I think your lip even quivered when you told me.” John points his wine glass in James’s direction before downing the rest of it in one go. “We had to have Billy go get it out. Billy is a fucking giant. I swear to you he was part viking.”

Thomas refills his glass and John looks over to James, eyes soft, “No one could sail the way James could. I’d been on a enough ships to compare. He took an impossible idea I’d had and turned it into a reality so effortlessly that I think even Degroot fell in love with him that day.”

John tips his glass back once more. When he puts it down his eyes are heavy and his lips are stained red and James can’t look away. John’s cheeks are flush with color from the alcohol and it reminds him of their short time together when John would seek him out. He’d get the same high coloring then too, but from arousal. When James turns to looks across to Thomas, Thomas is watching him with a considering look.

Thomas turns to John, “Would you like to stay in one of the guest rooms tonight? It's a long walk to the cabin and we’re all a little worse for wear.”

John just nods before letting his chin drop into his hand. Thomas excuses himself leaving them alone. James helps John up the stairs and to the room at the opposite end of the hall from his and Thomas’s. James leans him against the door and tells him to stay there, he’s going to turn the bed down.

When he gets back to John he has every intention of behaving himself, of keeping his hands at his sides except to help John across the room should he need it but the look John levels at him is so heavy that James can’t help himself. He cups John’s face and brings their mouths together softly. When James pulls back John’s eyes remain closed

“I understand now, that I was already in love with you then. Watching you land her that way, watching you take command, everyone scurrying to do your bidding, it was exhilarating and so goddamn arousing.” John’s lashes flutter up, the blue bright even in the dark of the room. “I couldn’t help myself. I wanted you so much. I still do”

John reaches out, puts his hand behind James’s neck and pulls him in. The kiss is hot and wet and James can’t keep himself from moving forward to deepen it. James reels with the taste of him. It’s been so long since John initiated contact that James can’t get enough. He pushes in closer, wraps his arms around John’s waist and tugs. John moans into his mouth. John’s tongue strokes over his, James tastes the wine they’d had and he is instantly reminded that John’s thinking is altered. He pulls back planting one hand on the door next to John’s head.

John chases him, mouth open, hands smoothing over James’s back trying to pull him back in.

“John, we can’t.”

John nods his head, “We can, there’s nothing stopping us now.”

James pulls himself free, takes a step back, “You’d hate me in the morning for taking advantage.”

“Hating you would be easier.”

James says nothing just helps John make it to the side of the bed before kissing his temple and exiting the room.

***

The next morning is tense until Thomas suggests they take the horses out for a run and then some target practice.

One day fades into the next until a week after John arrives he tells James that he needs to return home. James had walked him to the cabin after dinner only for John to drop the bombshell.

“I can’t make the decision here. I need to go home, I need to be able to think, and I can’t do that with you around. I promise I will come back to give you my decision.”

When he returns to the house, James find Thomas sitting up in bed, book in his hand, glasses perched on his nose. James leans against the doorframe looking his fill. He will never get tired of this, he will never regret coming to find Thomas, but he misses John in a way that loving Thomas, and being loved by him, can’t erase. When Thomas looks up, he smiles and motions James next to him.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asks as James shuts the door behind him.

James sighs as he begins readying himself for bed. “He says he needs to leave to make his decision, that he can’t do it here. He’s promised to deliver it in person. I’m afraid that when he leaves tomorrow it will be the last time I ever see him.”

“Do you trust him?” At James’s nod Thomas continues, “You have to let him go. Your mere presence is clouding his judgement. This is something he needs to decide if he can live with, something he needs to search deep within himself for. And if you’re here for him to see and feel around every corner, he won’t be able to be completely honest with himself. If he’s told you he’ll return, then he will. Has he ever broken a promise before?”

James shakes his head, “Not since we became close.”

“Then trust him now and let him do what he needs to do. If you force him to make this decision here, he may come to resent you for it at some point. ”

James settles into bed on his side next Thomas, head propped on his hand. “What do you think of him?”

“Which question do you want the answer to most? I know you’re thinking of several.”

James remains silent, almost afraid to ask, so instead he gives Thomas a sly look.

Thomas chuckles, “Yes he is very attractive and yes I could find myself being attracted to him. Is that what you wanted?”

James says nothing only reaches up to pull Thomas’s mouth to his. The kiss is heated, tongues tangling, stroking, until Thomas pulls back. “Don’t start something I can’t finish.” With a final kiss Thomas turns down the lamps.

Thomas fills in behind him, arm across James’s stomach, nose pressed to the back of his head. James spends most of the night letting his mind wander. He thinks about what happens if John doesn’t come back. He wonders if he can live with knowledge that John is alive and well, just not his.

The next morning before John departs, he and James take a walk through the copse of trees behind the cabin.

“I’m afraid to let you go.” James says in a rush of breath.

“I promise I’ll return. Even if don’t come to the conclusion you want, I will deliver it in person.”

James can’t help but pull him in for a kiss. John doesn’t fight him, he just slides his arms around James’s waist and holds on returning the kiss with as much feeling as James. It’s soft and slow, breath mingling, James’s tongue caressing John’s as John moans into his mouth. He presses closer, head angling to make it deeper. He licks into John’s mouth, chases his tongue, twines them together before he nips at John’s bottom lip. John is breathless, eyes half lidded when James pulls back.

He walks John to his carriage. Once again he watches John until he’s nothing but a dot in the distance. Thomas comes out a short time later and wraps his arms around James from behind.

“He’ll be back.”


	3. Time makes you bolder

Three weeks after John leaves, he’s back towing two trunks with a bag slung over his shoulder. James is home alone at the time, Thomas off at Abigail's, when he hears voices carrying up the walk. When he looks out John is being assisted by Johnny dragging a trunk in each hand. It takes everything James has not to sweep John up right that second. Once Johnny has left he ushers John into the kitchen.

James can feel his nerves buzzing, the smile that’s splitting his face must be damn near terrifying in it eagerness and his heart is beating a fast cadence in his chest. He keeps his hands clasped behind his back until John has set down his bag.

“You’re staying then?” James rocks forward onto his toes before settling again..

“For now. I’m not ready to give you up, not if there’s a way we can make this work. I can’t promise more than that.”

James is across the room in three strides, John’s face cupped in his hands, James seals their mouths together. The first kiss is chaste, just a brush of lips until James opens John’s mouth with his tongue. He tilts John’s head this way and that, devouring him, sucking his tongue prolonging it enough that by the time James pulls back they’re both gasping for air.

James’s mouth slides down the front of John’s throat, teeth biting, tongue laving the sting away. “God, I’ve missed the taste of you. I’ve missed the way you feel.”

His hands slide down John’s back to cup his ass and bring them flush. John’s body melts into his. James buries his face in the hair falling over John’s shoulder, he breaths him in, the scent of smoke and sweat and horse working its way through his senses. So different from the way John used to smell, but so familiar at the same time. James can’t believe he’s here, he feels like he needs to stop time so that he can savor every second of this.

John’s hands come up and push against James’s chest. “Wait, James, just wait.”

James lowers his hands, takes a half step back. James sees John’s hands shaking, sees the way his eyes dart around the room.

“You’ve had time to get used to this idea, I’m just beginning to think on it and I need some time and space, I can’t…” He takes a deep shuddering breath, “I want to stay in the cabin, alone, for now.”

James nods, “Yes, of course.” James walks to the cupboard and takes out a glass. He pours water for John, setting it in front of him. James tries to calm his racing heart, tries to put expectations out of his mind for now.

Later he helps John get all of his belonging to the cabin. He offers to stay and help John settle in but John tells him he’s fine, that he’d like to look around on his own a bit. James concedes.

“You’ll take dinner with us?”

John assures him he will and James goes back to the house. He paces the kitchen until Thomas returns. Before Thomas is even fully in the door James speaks.

“He's back. He brought two trunks. He’s staying.” The words rush out in a single breath..

A smile breaks across Thomas’s face, “Come here.” James all but falls into his arms. “You need to breath darling or you’re going to faint. And I am not carrying your unconscious form up those stairs.”  
James laughs and does exactly as Thomas says. He takes one deep breath after another and finally he can feel himself settling back into his skin comfortably. With a last breath he pulls back from Thomas and leans against the counter, smile plastered to his face.

“So where is he now?” Thomas asks.

“Cabin. He wanted to settle in. He says he’ll come for dinner.”

Thomas’s eyes slide down James’s body. “That means we have a little time, want to work off some of that nervous energy?”

Thomas approaches him slowly, eyes hungry, James swallow thickly, “What did you have in mind?”

Thomas licks across his throat before speaking. “I was thinking I could tie you to the bed and ride you.” Thomas kisses him hard and quick before sauntering out of the room and up the stairs. By the time he gets there Thomas is naked and holding the silk ties they keep for this exact reason.

James strips quickly. He lies on his back on their bed waiting for Thomas. He’s already panting, his cock hard where it lies against his stomach as he watches Thomas cross the room.

Thomas seats himself on James’s stomach, cock barely brushing James’s mouth as he leans over to tie James’s hands to the slats of the headboard. James flicks his tongue out catching just a taste of Thomas before Thomas tsks at him and pulls his hips back.

Once James is tied he reaches under James’s pillow for the slick and then gets to his knees. He coats two of his fingers liberally, uses his other hand to brace himself on James’s chest and then he reaches back. James know the exact moment Thomas’s fingers breach his body. His breath stutters out and his eyes flutter closed.

“This is all I could think about the entire way home. I was desperate to get you inside me.”

Thomas rides his fingers, arm working faster with each second. James is enthralled. He watches color start in thomas’s cheeks and work its way down his face, his neck, across his chest until stopping just above his stomach. It’s a beautiful rosy flush that compliments Thomas’s light color. Soon enough Thomas is pulling his fingers free and stroking wet fingers over James’s cock.

The touch sends a shiver down his spine, his body tightening in anticipation. Thomas rubs the head of James’s cock over his hole, his breath hitches at the heat of Thomas’s body. He clenches his hands into fists above his head and wills himself still as Thomas takes him in one slow inch at a time. By the time he’s fully seated they’re both panting, sweat slicking their skin.

Thomas rocks his hips forward and James moans, the slick, hot channel of Thomas’s body grips him tightly as Thomas lifts up. The drag of skin is so fucking good James can’t keep his eyes open. Thomas lifts and lowers himself several times in quick succession before coming down hard and grinding against James. James feels his toes curl, he whines deep in his throat at the way Thomas feels. He wants to touch so badly. He’s always like this. Completely on board with being tied until it gets to the point where all he wants is to put his hands all over Thomas’s lithe body.

He wants to stroke Thomas’s cock, tug on his nipples. He wants to feel the muscles in Thomas’s thighs contracting with each lift of his hips. He wants to feel the ripple of muscle in Thomas’s abdomen. He loves the way Thomas looks above him. Every sinful thought James has ever had embodied in one beautifully sensual man.

Thomas leans forward, plants both hands on James’s chest, cants his hips and rides James fast. James can feel his cock head slipping over the spongy spot deep inside that makes Thomas’s eyes roll back.

James plants his feet and fucks up into Thomas in counter. Thomas moves, hands sliding to dig into the bed above James’s shoulders as he folds further forward. All he’s succeeding in doing is driving himself closer to orgasm. Thomas is panting in his ear, broken little moans pushed out of hm with every jerky thrust of James’s hips.

“I love the way you feel.” Thomas sits back up quickly, weight forcing James’s hips back to the bed, stilling his movements. Thomas rocks back and forth body sucking at James’s cock, tight squeeze of his ass as Thomas leans back. He lets his head drop back and James is taunted by graceful line of his body. He wants to touch so badly, he jerks his hands forward, the knots holding. Thomas rolls his hips in short little pumps before coming back to center.

The grin Thomas gives him is filthy. His eyes trace James’s face, tongue flicking out to lick over his bottom lip. He brings his hands up, fingers plucking at his own nipples, “Is this what you want? You want to touch me here?” His fingertips slowly slide over his chest and abdomen. James can only nod.

When James’s eyes drop to his cock, Thomas huffs out a laugh. “Here? Like this?” Thomas takes his cock in his hand, palm sliding over the slick head, fingers gripping the shaft lightly before he strokes up and down. He moans softly at the feel of his own hand. He starts rocking back and forth, hips undulating, lifting the tiniest bit, hand moving faster and James can’t look away.

He’s practically glowing in the sunlight, body flushed and slick, nipples hard and dark, muscles straining as he moves. He’s fucking himself back onto James’s cock and then forward into his fist, mouth open, gasping little breath escaping him. Each move is faster, harder, as he gets closer to orgasm. James sees his thighs start to shake, watches a shiver run down his spine before his head drops forward, hand stripping his cock at lightening speed as he grinds down against James’s cock. There’s a final desperate moan and then he’s coming over James’s chest and stomach, hot streaks landing in a random pattern all over him.

Thomas finally comes to a stop, breath ragged, face slack. When he opens his eyes they’re hazy and sated, as a blissful smile stretches across his face. He collects the come cooling on James’s chest and feeds it to James as he starts to ride James again, this time with the intent of making James come. James savors the taste of Thomas on his tongue, moans around Thomas fingers as Thomas speeds up.

James’s hips lift of their own accord, fast, sharp thrusts as Thomas clenches around him. He braces himself on James’s chest once more, lower body meeting James halfway as he fucks up and in. Thomas’s lips close over one of James’s nipples, teeth sinking in before tugging and James shouts his pleasure, stomach clenching, back bowing as he comes deep inside Thomas’s body. Thomas milks him through it, hips rotating, curling under, wringing every last drop from James’s cock before he collapses onto James’s chest.

Thomas immediately unties James’s hand and they lay there for a long time, James’s mind drifting from one thing to the next to keep from dwelling on John and what his presence means. Thomas eventually levers himself off of James to clean them both up. After a short discussion of what to make for dinner, they both head downstairs.

They spend the time preparing dinner discussing his meeting with Abigail and the Governor. Thomas thinks that he can bring the Governor around to his way of thinking with enough time and the correctly worded proposals. He tells James that he wants James’s opinions good or bad.

By the time dinner is ready, the sun has set and John has yet to show up. They wait until the absolute last minute before they begin eating. Dinner is quiet and subdued, James sitting morosely through the entire meal, every noise putting him on high alert. When it’s over, Thomas suggests that James go to him.

When James gets to the cabin his heart seizes in his chest. It’s fully dark, not a single lamp lit that James can see. He knocks on the door not expecting an answer. When he hears John’s uneven gait James’s knees go weak with relief.

John lets him and then goes back to the edge of the bed. He sits looking straight ahead.

“Why haven't you lit the lamps?” James goes through the cabin, lighting one after another.

“I hadn’t realized it was so dark until just now.” John’s voice is soft.

“I thought you were coming for dinner.”

John looks down to his hands, his fingers twisting the rings on his left hand. “I came by earlier, you were...busy.”

James stills, breath catching, “Shit. John, I…” He’s not sure what to say. He’s not sorry for loving Thomas. He’s not sorry for taking Thomas to bed. He had imagined that at some point, John would see them, or catch them, but he had never imagined it would be this soon.

“Don’t apologize, there’s nothing to apologize for. I was early, I thought we could talk. I came back here thinking I would just clear my mind a bit. Time must have gotten away from me.”

James shuffles from side to side, hands clasped behind his back. He doesn’t like the slump of John’s shoulders or the tightness by his eyes.

“Are you hungry? I can bring you something.” James suggests.

John gives him a half smile, “Yes, I’d like that.”

James waits another beat before heading back to the house. As much as he tries to hold it at bay, guilt swarms him. He knows John’s decision to come here was difficult for him. To be faced with his biggest fear on the first day had to have been upsetting. James is surprised that John had stayed, surprised and grateful.

Once in the kitchen James sees there’s a plate setting off to the side. Thomas stands at the island, barrel of hot water at his elbow as he cleans the pots from dinner. “I made him a plate.”

James runs his hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh. “He heard us, earlier, when we were upstairs.”

Thomas only nods his head. “I figured he would.”

“What?” James goes still, eyes seeking Thomas’s.

Thomas pulls his hands from the barrel and dries them with the cloth thrown across his shoulder. “I looked out the window and saw him coming up the back path, we were rather engaged at that moment.”

“And you didn’t stop?”

“No, James, I didn’t stop. I told you that I was willing to share you, but I am not willing to give you up. The fact is that John needs to understand what happens in this house. It needs to be part of his reality so he can make the right choice for himself.”

Before James can reply, John answers for him. “He’s right.”

James turns to him, brows drawing together as the looks at John leaning against the door frame.

“I was hungry and you were taking too long, so I came to get it myself.” John steps into the kitchen, the door banging behind him. “He’s right. I can theoretically know what’s happening here. I can assume that you’re taking him to bed, but our minds can play tricks on us, can’t they? Our brains can convince us of things that are wholly untrue. I needed the knowledge that it was happening, not just the assumption of it. I wouldn’t be making an informed decision otherwise.”

John smiles at Thomas, and Thomas smiles back. James can only look between them. He’s beginning to think that’s he’s stepped into an alternative reality.

“You’re surprised we agree?” Thomas arches an eyebrow at him, “James, there’s a reason _we_ are the two that you want. There is a reason you love the both of us.” Thomas says.

John walks further into the kitchen and picks up the plate from the sideboard. He digs in and at the first bite moans in appreciation which takes Thomas by surprise. It’s nearly comical the way Thomas turns to John, who is completely oblivious, eyes closed as he chews slowly, and takes in John’s entire form. There’s a spark of heat behind Thomas's eyes as they watch John eat.

Thomas turns back to the pots. Once they’re finished he buses a kiss to James’s check before turning to John, “I’m happy that you came back, I hope that you choose to stay.” Thomas gently runs his fingertips across the back of John’s hand before exiting the room. John jaw stops mid chew and James watches as John’s eyes follow Thomas from the room.

***

The following weeks are spent in a complicated dance. John finds random things to finish at the cabin, spending time going into town, or with Johnny and Mary at the trading post. He helps James and Thomas with the livestock and with minor repairs over the entire property. They settle into a rhythm that seems to work for all of them. Several times a week, Thomas will make himself scarce allowing James and John to have time to get to know each other again, to try and build back what they had sacrificed. More than once John has ended up in James’s arms, kisses so frantic and needy that they steal James’s very breath from his lungs. But they always end in John pushing him away just as quickly, apologizing and then all but running away from James.

The first time, James had gone after him, but John had refused to open the door of the cabin, telling James to go, that he’d see him in the morning. James had been at a loss, so he’d left John alone as asked. The next day John had been sullen and silent all day and had refused dinner that night. Now James just lets him go, he suffers through the resulting fall out and then waits for John to seek him out on his own.

Three weeks into John’s stay, the three of them set out for town on a trip to the store for supplies. They’re not in the store ten minutes before John has managed to charm his way into MaryAnne Johnson’s good graces. MaryAnne and her husband Ted run the store and as long as James has known her, MaryAnne has been downright rude, no matter how polite he and Thomas were to her. But there she is, blushing and demuring in front of John like she’s a schoolgirl on her first date.

“I come in here twice a week for the last number of years and she looks at me like she wants to string me up from the rafters. He’s here five minutes and she’s eating out of his hand. How the hell does he do that?” The bafflement in Thomas’s voice makes James laugh

“Do you know how many times he talked me out of killing him?”

Thomas just raises a brow at him and goes about collecting what they need. By the time they’re finished and piling their purchases on the counter MaryAnne’s expression has started to sour every time she looks James and Thomas’s way.

John slings his arms over James’s shoulder and it takes everything James has not to jump out of his skin. “MaryAnne, you know my cousins, James and Thomas, don’t you?”

MaryAnne looks James up and down, looks back to John and narrows her eyes. “You look nothing alike.”

“I take after my father’s side.” John hurries on, “They were kind enough to offer me shelter when I lost my leg and could no longer sail.” MaryAnne’s face softens just slightly and James has to stop himself from snorting.

“Such a poor soul, losing it that way, careening a ship in barely passable conditions only to be put out by the no good captain afterward.”

James turns his head to the side slowly and opens his mouth just as Thomas steps on his foot. He snaps his mouth shut and Thomas interjects, “Yes, John’s had a very hard life. It was the least we could do, taking in our sister's son.”

James barely keeps from rolling his eyes as Thomas digs his purse from his pocket and lays enough coin on the counter to cover their purchases. Once outside they load the horses and the mule and start out for home.

“No good captain?” James is indigent. He was a better captain to his crew than most.

“Well I couldn’t very well tell her the truth. And I needed some form of excuse as to why I’m living with the two of you.” John shrugs.

“He has a point.” Thomas puts in.

James just sighs and remains silent the entire ride home. If this is how his life is going to go, the two of them teaming up against him, he thinks he’ll take up heavy drinking. When they get back to the house, James goes with John to the cabin to help him unload.

“You realize I’m perfectly capable of doing this myself?”

John doesn’t seem angry that James wants to help, only confused.

“I just want to spend time with you. I can go, if you’d rather.” James tries to make his voice as understanding as possible. He doesn’t want to push John, but he needs John to understand how much James wants to be with him and he’s not entirely sure John believes him.

“No, I--I want the same, I don’t want to keep you if there are other...things you need...want to be doing.”

James runs his finger along the side of John’s arm, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

James doesn’t know what does it but suddenly John is in his arms, mouth open, tongue plunging between James’s parted lips. James groans into the kiss and pulls John tight against him. John’s hands fist in his shirt briefly before they’re pulling it from James’s pants, hand sliding underneath. John’s nails rake down his spine and James arches into him with a hiss. James’s hands sink into John’s hair, fingers rubbing at John’s scalp. James brings their lower bodies together and John rocks against him, a muffled moan sounding between them. John’s head drops back as his body arches forward. James licks down the side of John’s throat, his tongue pushing against the fast pulse he finds, biting at the base. His hands slide down to cup John’s ass, to bring him closer, their cocks rubbing together and then suddenly John is pushing him away.

“I’m sorry, you should go.” John is shaking from head to toe and James tries to reach for him only to have John back further away.

James lets his hands drop, “You’ll still come for dinner?” John nods his head. As James’s foot hits the first step he hears John throwing the bolt across the door and James can only sigh.

Once again they hold dinner as long as they can. After, James takes a basket with bread, dried meat and fruit to John’s door. He knocks, sets the basket down and then leaves. If John is bolting the door against him, he won’t force John to face him. When James checks the basket the next morning it’s empty and James is thankful.

***

The pattern holds for the next month. Every time that James thinks they’re making progress, John takes a step back and they’re back at square one. James is at a loss, John refuses to tell him what’s at the heart of it. James knows something is holding John back, but either John won’t acknowledge it to himself or he won’t let James in on the secret and James is left playing a guessing game that he inevitably loses every single time. John is spending more and more time away from them, and James doesn’t know where he’s going. At least until Mary brings a basket of woven socks to the house for John. The bafflement must show on James’s face.

“The Yamacraw women. John has been teaching the children numbers, and this is their way of saying thank you.”

James only nods and leads Mary to John’s cabin. When John opens the door he realizes instantly that James now knows where he’s spending his time. John thanks Mary and she takes her leave. James waits until she’s gone before asking, “Were you ever going to tell me?”

“You’re angry.” John says flatly.

“No, John, I’m not angry. I’m glad you’ve found something that you enjoy.” James doesn’t know how to explain the turmoil inside himself without destroying the progress they’ve made just this week. He’s not angry, but his feelings are a little worse for wear knowing that John didn’t feel he could trust James with this. He figures he should quit while he’s ahead, “I’ll see you at dinner.”

John nods at him. That evening Thomas spends his time looking between John and James before excusing himself for the evening. The look he gives James just before exiting the room, says _fix this_. James doesn’t know how. They sit in silence for another several minutes before John gets up and tells James he’ll see him in the morning.

James is up with the sun, mind still tumbling over itself as he makes his way to John’s cabin. When John answers the door he’s wary. James decides the direct approach is best.

“Why didn’t you want me to know?” James asks as he steps past John into the cabin.

“It isn’t that I didn’t want you to know.” James doesn’t miss the sigh at the end.

“Then what is it? I don’t understanding what’s happening here.”

“I don’t know. I needed something, something that wasn’t about you or me or us or Thomas. I just needed something where I didn’t need to think about all this for five goddamn minutes.” John throws his hands in the air.

“If you don’t want to be here then why are you? I’m not forcing you to stay, John.” James turns away, hand smoothing over his face. This is not how this conversation was supposed to go.

“Aren’t you? You offer yourself to me on the proverbial silver platter and what choice do I have but to take the one thing that I’ve wanted for longer than I can recall. How could I possibly be anywhere else, when you’re here, wanting me? How could I possibly walk away from you a second time?”

The anguish in John’s voice has James advancing on him until John holds up a single shaking hand to stop his progress, his voice wavers as he continues. “I love you, James, but I don’t know if I can manage all of this. Us, him. It’s so much. Every time you touch me it’s heaven and hell all rolled up together. Do you think I want to hold you at arm's length?”

John paces away from him, hands swiping through his hair. “I don’t, but now, just like then, I am terrified of losing myself in you. I can’t have you, only to find out that I’m incapable of controlling my feelings, my baser urges over you and him, only to then lose you again because of my own failings. I’m sorry James, but I can’t move any faster.”

James moves towards him again and this time John doesn’t deny him. He pulls John to him, holding him close, hands stroking his back. “I’m sorry for pushing”, as hard as his next words are, he has to voice them, “If you find that you can’t stay here, tell me before you go. I won’t force you to stay, but please don’t let me wake up to find you gone with no word. I couldn’t bear it.”

He feels John draw in a shaky breath before promising. James withdraws. He hates leaving John when he’s this upset but James feels that his continued presence would only make things worse. James heads to the shed, collects his tools and makes his way toward the garden.

Hours later, Thomas finds him elbow deep in soil.

“It didn’t go as planned then?”

Sitting back on his heels, James just shakes his head. He wipes the sweat from his forehead onto his sleeve as he looks up at Thomas.

“Give him time James, it’s a complicated situation.” Thomas squeezes his shoulder before ruffling the hair at the back of James’s neck.

“He’s been here two months.” On some level James know he sounds like a pouting child, but he can’t seem to help himself.

He hears Thomas chuckle and James shoots him a look. “I seem to remember having this same conversation with you.”

“This isn’t the same. John and I have been through the same things together. He doesn't need to worry about how I’ll feel about the things he’s done.”

Kneeling next to James, Thomas takes his hand, “That isn’t what I meant. When you first showed up here, I was terrified of losing you again and all I could think about was finding some way to bind you to me to keep you from leaving.” James turns his head surprised.

Thomas smiles at him, guilty look on his face, “But I also understand how _he_ feels, because I feel it too. The difference is that we’ve had a significant amount of time together to regain trust, to learn each other again, we’ve had time to work through those things that tripped us up. I trust in your feelings for me, that’s what allows me to be sure that if he agrees, we can find a workable solution. He can’t see that just yet. He’s lost you once and he’s afraid that if he lets himself be with you now and he’s unable to control his jealousy about you and I, he’ll lose you again.” Thomas must read his confusion.

”James, what would you have done if he’d asked you into an arrangement just like this only on the other side of it were him and Madi? What would you have done, what would you have felt?”

Dawning realization steals over him. James doesn't know if he’d have been able to handle it at all. He doesn’t know if he’d have been able to see John in her arms and not reel with jealousy. He doesn’t know if he would have been able to control that jealousy, if he would have been able to keep it from ripping them all apart. He knows that he would have been thinking about the two of them together, what they were doing, what they were talking about every second he and John were apart. He would have been constantly wondering if John were comparing them, and finding him lacking. He would have started comparing the amount of time John spent with each of them and in the event that it wasn’t equal, James would have convinced himself that John must somehow find some fault in him. Thomas smiles when he sees the revelation taking over James’s face.

“Have you showed him this garden yet?” James shakes his head, “I think perhaps you should.” Thomas buses a kiss to his head before walking away.

James understands what Thomas is telling him. This garden is and always has been James’s domain. Thomas never works with him here. This garden is a tribute to John. Whenever James needed to clear his head this is where he came. When his heartache over John grew too big for him to contain James had come here. He worked the soil, turning it over and over, cultivating the ground into the perfect environment to grow vegetables. He tended to this patch of ground with all of the love he hadn’t been able to give to John. He looks out over the freshly tilled earth ready for the seedlings James has carefully collected and he decides it's time for John to see it too.

The next morning, after the dew has burned off, James is knocking on the cabin door, arms behind his back rocking on his heels. When John answers he’s weary but he notices the gloves James holds out to him and his brows wrinkle.

“I’d like you to come with me. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

John’s lips twitch as he tries not to smile. He takes the gloves and follows behind James. They walk the quarter mile to James’s little patch of land in complete silence. When they come to a stop James clears his throat.

“I started this garden a month or so after I arrived here. Sometimes being in the house with Thomas I felt caged in. I couldn’t think clearly, I was restless, I was starting useless arguments. I’d gone for a walk after one such argument and veered off the path and found this perfectly flat tract of ground and for whatever reason I decided I needed to start a garden. I’d like to share it with you. I’d very much like for you to help to keep it up. It's become far larger than I had anticipated. I’ve labeled each row and the seeds I’ve yet to plant are in the shed with the tools to remove weeds, and watering cans.”

John says nothing but he walks the perimeter, reading each of the row tags. He tests the soil with his hands, rubs it between his fingers. James can see the wheels in his mind spinning as he visually measures the length of each row.

“Have you ever thought of expanding it include flowers?”

“I have, but I worried their invasive roots would take up too much room and strangle the vegetables.”

John comes around to stand at his side, “If we dug down far enough and built a wall of beams between the two sections, we could plant flowers on one side, and vegetables on the other.”

James feels the tension seeping out of his shoulders. It's not just about the garden. It's the connection that he and John have always had, the ability to find compromise and common ground. It's John’s willingness to acknowledge James’s offer and counter with one of his own, despite the turbulence they’re experiencing. John’s willingness to work with him, to try, is all he’d wanted. They spend the next several hours drawing out plans. It's the start in a long line of conversations that have them back to communicating in a way they haven’t since James left the island.

On the days that John doesn’t visit the Yamacraw children, they work side by side digging and planting. Their conversation consists of mostly safe subjects, which don’t include feelings. John begins to open up about his short stay in Beaufort and his work with the Yamacraw tribe. James in turn tells him about working with Thomas while Thomas tries to broker peace between the landowners, the natives, and the Governors.

After several weeks of working together, John begins to initiate contact. At first it’s no more than John winding his forefinger around James’s as they walk back to John’s cabin at the end of the day. After several days it’s several fingers. By the end of the week John is tangling all of their fingers together so that they’re palm to palm during the walk home, holding hands as if they’re courting. James can’t help but be taken in by the soft smiles John gives him. James couldn't be happier. He finally feels like they’re progressing and continuing to move forward instead of the twisted back and forth dance they were stuck in before.

John hasn’t missed a dinner in weeks and he laughs more, opening up to Thomas, engaging him in conversation more often. There are days when James feels full to bursting as he watches them banter over after dinner drinks. Thomas is genuine in his curiosity, and John is more forthcoming than ever before. James watches intently as Thomas becomes completely enthralled by John as so many have, he watches their admiration for each other grow to the point that John truly believes he can call Thomas friend. He sees the desire grown behind Thomas’s eyes, he watches the way Thomas’s gaze follows John. He catches Thomas on more than one occasion and Thomas just shrugs, smirk firmly in place.

On a Friday after a month and a half of carefully constructing the wall between the flowers and vegetables, once they reach John’s cabin, John brings their joined hands to his mouth. He brushes a soft kiss to James’s knuckles, eyes locked with James’s the whole time. He leaves James with a soft smile and a wink. James doesn’t think his feet touch the ground on his way back to the house.

Later that evening after dinner, after James is back from having walked John home, Thomas mentions James’s especially good mood and James can’t help but smile. “He kissed my hand today.”

The smile Thomas gives him is in indulgent, “Do you think he’s starting to come around?”

James is hopeful when he nods.

That night when Thomas tries to put him on his stomach James shakes his head but he can’t find the words to tell Thomas why he’s hesitant. He needn’t have worried, Thomas is so much more perceptive than James gives him credit for. Thomas rolls him to his back and straddles his hips, ass resting over James’s very interested cock.

“Do you think I’ve never thought of him here in our bed when we’re together?” James’s eyes snap up and Thomas smiles at him. “I have. He’s beautiful, James, with a quick mind, it’s impossible for me not to want him, especially knowing that the two of us are hopeful that he’ll one day find his way into this bed.”

James lets Thomas kiss him, lets Thomas’s words sink in and whatever guilt he’d had evaporates. Thomas nuzzles under his ear, breath ghosting down his neck “Should I tell you what I’ve thought about?”

James nods, breath hitching as Thomas’s hand slides down his chest. “I’ve thought about him between us, I think about whether he’s built like you, years of hard labor replacing softness with muscle and strength. Your body, James, it takes my breath away.” Thomas rocks his body down against James and James gasps. Their cocks brush together, the head of Thomas’s cock catching against his, the wet tip sliding slickly down James’s shaft.

“You’ve felt his cock haven’t you, through his clothes, pressed against you?” James can only nod as Thomas licks his palm and then takes both of them in his hand, his strokes are slow and sure. James’s hips shoot up, head going back on a moan. “I’ve thought about tasting him, taking his cock in my mouth. Do you want to taste him, James?”

“God, yes.” James has to grit his teeth to keep from begging Thomas for _his_ mouth. Thomas’s hand speeds up, slicked by both of them leaking.

“I want to watch you fuck him, I want to see your cock thick and hard sliding inside him.” James is panting, body strung tight, mind reeling as image after image of what Thomas is saying flashes behind his eyelids and God he wants it too. He wants it so much it’s nearly debilitating.

Thomas tightens his fist, squeezes them together, James hisses out a breath, pumping his hips up. He can’t believe how close he is just from the thought of John between them. Thomas leans down, bites along James’s throat, hand speeding up.

James’s hands goes to Thomas’s hips, nails digging in, he can feel his stomach tightening, feels the weightless overtaking him, “Faster.”

Thomas lets his own cock fall from his fingers as his hand speeds up, his fist flying over James’s cock. Twisting on the downstroke squeezing at the top, his palm slides over the head and James is gone, a shout of Thomas’s name as he comes in thick ropes across his stomach. Before Thomas can get his hand back on his cock, James is pulling him forward until he’s kneeling over James’s head, mouth open to take Thomas’s cock in.

He sucks hard at the head before Thomas’s hips shove in. James seals his mouth around Thomas’s cock and lets him fuck in and out. Thomas’s hands go to James’s head to hold him steady.

“Fuck, your mouth.” Thomas moans. His gaze is glued to James’s lips, eye dazed and heavy and James can barely contain his smile. Thomas’s movements become frantic, he pulls out of James’s mouth, hand going to his cock, stripping it fast, his cock head dragging along James’s bottom lip until he gasps and shoves back into James’s mouth.

James’s eyes never leave his face as Thomas comes down his throat, body jerking, head back, mouth open on one gasping breath after another. Thomas pulls free and collapses next James. James curls into him, they don’t bother to clean up before dozing off.

***

A month later James tells John that he’ll meet him at the garden, he needs to check at the outpost for a box of seeds he’s expecting. In reality, James is expecting one particular flower. This last month John has been enticing to say the least. He’s gone from kissing James’s hand to kissing James’s check and then just a few days ago he’d placed a soft chaste kiss to James’s lips. James never presses for more, not wanting to push.

James had finally realized that it wasn’t John’s feelings that were causing John problems, it was John’s doubt of James’s feelings. He’d realized that telling John he loved him was falling on deaf ears. John needed to see it and James thinks he’s figured out the perfect solution.

During the days when James and John were practically attached at the hip on the maroon island, their discussions ranged wide and far, including a discussion regarding John’s favorite flower which had been abundant on the maroon island. When John had suggested they plant flowers next to the vegetables, James had immediately been taken back to the conversation they’d had one afternoon about John’s flower of choice.

_“Lilies. They live forever. You can take them anywhere, uproot them, replant them and they’ll still flourish. They’re adaptable, unkillable. But my favorite lilly is the Turks Cap. In addition to being blood red, it hangs upside down.”_

_“It hangs upside down?” James couldn't fathom something so ridiculous._

_He follows John down a short path, they cut right into the forest before coming to stop in front of a large patch of lilies that, very clearly appear to be hanging upside down._

_John motions to the flower, “Upside down.” He nods his head at James like James is a slow child._

_James unsheathes his knife and cuts a single flower, he then proceeds to weave it into John’s hair. He knows he’ll have to remove it before they re-enter the camp but for now, out here where it’s just them, he can indulge himself. When he meets John’s eyes they’re soft and filled with so much unspoken emotion that James has to curl his hands into fists to keep from reaching for him. He’d like nothing more than to pull John down to the ground and worship him the way he deserves. But they don’t do that in the bright light of day and they certainly don’t do it out in the open where they could be caught._

_They only get a few minutes more before the snapping of a twig has John pulling the flower from his hair and tucking it into an inside pocket of his coat._

When he gets to Mary’s she presents him with a small pot covered in plain brown paper. He pulls the paper off to reveal two perfectly bloomed Turk’s Cap lilies. All he has to do it replant them and they will take root. Each year the blooms will grow by two until there are so many that they will eventually need to split them up and replant them throughout the property.

He rides very carefully back to the house, the small pot held in his lap, one hand holding it tight. After letting his horse loose in the corral, he hides the flower behind his back as he makes his way to where John is kneeling, carefully pulling weeds out of the flower beds. He stops directly behind him and lowers the flower until it’s directly in John’s line of sight.

John sits back quickly, his head almost banging into James’s knee as he turns, eyes wide. “Where did you find that?”

“I asked Mary if she could find one for me.”

John takes the pot in his hands and brings the flower to nose. He inhales deeply, eyes closing as the sweet scent fills him. John puts the flower on the ground gently and then holds his hand out to James. James helps him to his feet and then John is on him. Hands in James’s hair pulling his head down. It only takes James a second to catch up.

James’s arms wrap tightly around John’s waist as he pulls him closer. The kiss is ferocious, so much longing between them. James’s breath rushes out of him at the feel of John pressed against him fully. It’s been over a month since John’s let him this close. John’s been getting more comfortable with him and the chaste kisses he’s been bestowing on James at the end of each day have only made James ache for more. He can feel John lifting to the tips of his toes as James pulls him closer still.

He feels so good against James, strong lean body, hard chest. John moans into his mouth, hips rocking against him. James’s hands go to John’s ass, bringing him impossibly closer, grinds against him. John breaks the kiss with a gasp, head falling back, eyes closed. That look on his face is so familiar to James, he’d seen it on the island, when John would come to him, when James would put John’s body under his. The push and pull of their hips making them both crazy with need. And as much as he wants to be patient for John now, he can’t help but hope this is leading where he thinks it is. John’s head comes back up, his mouth seeking James’s. John’s teeth nip, biting James’s lower lip as he starts to walk backward dragging James with him.

“Wait,” James pants, “We have to plant the lily.”

“It can wait.” John’s answer is short as he’s dragging James’s mouth back to his. John moans as James’s tongue sweeps in touching against his. James gentles the kiss, turns it warm and sweet and slow. John goes plaint, mouth following James’s lead until James pulls back.

“I waited weeks for that flower, I won’t let it die.” James knows that if they get to John’s cabin, they won’t leave for days and if he doesn’t plant it now, it will die. “It will only take a minute.

James disentangles himself and the goes to his knees, he picks up the trowel John had been using and moves to the middle of the second row. He digs down roughly eight inches, removes the lily from its pot, gently shakes the roots to loosen them just slightly and then places it in the hole. He recovers it and then waters it liberally before getting back to his feet.

He turns to look at John and had he ever doubted what John felt for him, this would be his realization. John’s entire face is shining with love and James can’t help but pull him into another long kiss.

When John pulls back he takes James’s hand, “I have something to show you.”

When they get to the cabin James expects clothes to go flying, what he doesn’t expect is for John to cross the room and pull a book from its place on the shelf. When he turns back and opens the book James sees what he can only assume is the flower he’d once cut and placed in John’s hair.

“I found it in my coat pocket a few days later. I wanted to keep it.”

It’s no longer vibrant, now it’s flat and dried and brown, but James understands the sentiment behind its continued existence. James takes the book, closes it and then places it on the table before he pushes into John’s space.

James’s takes John’s face in his hands, eyes watching carefully before lowering his head. He kisses John softly, tongue sliding under John’s, stroking the edges of his teeth, tickling under his top lip before taking John’s tongue into his mouth and sucking it.

John’s hands clutch at James’s sides as he steps closer. His fingers go to the buttons on James’s shirt and James lets him release each one slowly, as he continues the kiss. He can feel the tremble in John’s hands, can almost taste the nervousness on his lips. He pulls back, eyes searching John’s face. John’s eyes are focused on his own hands where they’re pushing James’s shirt from his shoulders.

James lets the shirt fall to the floor and stands as still as possible as John’s fingers skate over his chest. The tips of his fingers are cool where they slide along James’s pectorals. His thumbs graze James’s nipples and James sucks in a sharp breath. John’s eyes snap to his and without taking his gaze off of James’s face he does it again, this time harder. James’s nipples pebble into little buds at the stimulation and he can’t stop the soft groan and the violent fluttering of his lashes, at how good it feels.

John’s hands rake through the hair on James’s chest, his palms run over James’s stomach and it quivers under John’s touch. John’s face is a study in wonder as his fingers slide all over James’s torso. Even though their few encounters had ended in mutual pleasure they’d never seen each other without clothes and James knows well enough that John has never been with another man before him. He grits his teeth against the onslaught of John’s gentle touches, doing his best to stay as still as possible.

When John leans forward and licks across James’s left nipple, James nearly shouts, his jaw working to keep the sound in, to keep from scaring John, but he can’t help the way his back arches. James looks down to meets John’s eyes just before he does it again, this time with a sharp bite at the end and James doesn’t stand a chance against the moan that breaks free. John brings James’s hands to his shirt and James hesitates.

“If this is gratitude…” James swallows thickly because he doesn’t want John that way, he only wants what John _wants_ to give. Not what he thinks he needs to.

“Fuck gratitude. I want you. I have _always_ wanted you and I am tired of denying myself.” John leans up to kiss him and James meets him halfway, twists his hands into John’s hair and takes his mouth. He sinks his tongue deep. John gasps into his mouth and James hums in response. He kisses John the way he’s longed to for what seems like forever, possessive and demanding, greedy, holding nothing back.

He scoops John up and tumbles him down to the bed, James’s body coming over his, his tongue licking out across John’s bottom lip. He licks the curve of it before trailing through John’s short beard. He skims his teeth down John’s throat and John moans when James hits a particularly sensitive spot.

It takes no time for James to divest them of their clothes and John’s peg and once James has him naked, he has to stop and just look. John is all lean muscle, and bronze skin, tiny little nipples that James leans in to taste. John hisses out a breath, back bowing, hand threading through James’s hair to hold him in place. James licks down the center of John’s chest, rims his belly button, digs his tongue into the center. He bites down, across to John’s hips, he runs the flat of his tongue across the bone. He sucks a mark into the hollow right next to his groin and John’s hips push up, body trying to follow James’s mouth when he lifts his head. He surges upward, licks into John’s mouth, their cocks brush together and they both moan. James ruts down, hips moving slowly against John’s.

“James, please, I can’t wait any longer.” John’s hands scrabble over his shoulders as he pulls James closer. He wraps a leg over James’s hip trying to bring their bodies flush but there is so much more that James wants. He slides down John’s body, shoulders his way between John’s thighs and licks over the wet tip of John’s cock. John cries out, hips bucking.

James lifts his cock, licks from tip to base, eyes focused on John. John moans, head turning to the side as his mouth opens, panting against the pillow. He licks around the base, tongue trailing slickly through the dark, dense hair. James take a deep breath, draws the scent of John into him, man and musk and sex permeating his senses. He runs his tongue back to the head, circles it, before wrapping his lips around John and sliding all the way down slowly. James’s eyes slip closed, the weight of John on his tongue is a pleasure he didn’t know whether he’d ever get and now that he has it he plans to savor it.

John’s hands grab his head, fingers fisting in James’s hair, “Oh my god.” His hips push up and James rides the motion, lets John sink further into the back of his throat. James hums around him and John’s breath stops for several seconds before he starts panting again, faster than before. James pulls up, lets the spit collecting in his mouth slide out and down John’s cock, lets it slick him so that it’s pooling at the base, so that John can feel it slipping down his balls as James sucks the head.

James waits for John’s eyes to meet his and then he encourages John to fuck his mouth, he pulls up on John’s hips, once, twice, until John gets the message. John’s hands clasp behind his neck as he holds James’s head steady.

His first few thrusts are short, jerky motions until he finds a rhythm. In and out his cock slides against James’s lips, his tongue curling underneath, giving John as much friction as he can. John’s thighs are straining, stomach clenched, eyes bleary and he looks so beautiful to James in this moment that he wants freeze it and hold it forever. But he still has more to taste. He gently pushes John’s hips down to the bed and pulls off his cock. John shakes his head, tries to pull James back to him, “Please.” His voice is hoarse and thin, needy.

He licks down around John’s sac, tongues at his balls before sucking each one gently. He pushes John’s thighs up and then licks from his balls to his ass. John’s legs try to close on his head as he tries to scramble backward away from James’s mouth. James lowers John’s thighs to his shoulders and wraps his arms over John’s hips to pull him back down. John’s body is tense and when he looks up John’s brows are furrowed.

“Relax.”

John opens his mouth to respond but James licks across him again and what he gets instead is low broken moan. James hums at the sharp dusky taste of John on his tongue. He bites gently at John’s rim just to feel John’s muscles flutter against his tongue. Before long John is pushing back for more, desperate needy sounds falling from his lips, his confusion forgotten in the face of blinding pleasure. James licks and sucks at him, strokes his tongue in, flicks it back and forth. One of John’s hands is fisted in his hair, holding his head still as he rides James’s face, hips bucking and grinding, thighs squeezing James’s head.

James slides his middle finger in next to his tongue and John loses his breath. He raises his head to look down at James, his eyes are glassy, pupils completely eclipsing the blue, cheeks ruddy, mouth bitten raw. James curls his finger and brushes back and forth and John’s head falls back, eyes squeezing shut tight as he moans long and low, body jolting, shoving against James’s hand.

James takes John’s cock back in his mouth, sucks hard at the head and John cries out, body shuddering with the dual sensations. The hand in James’s hair tightens, nails scratching his scalp as John’s body rocks between James’s mouth and his finger. His hips undulate, his right foot is planted giving himself leverage to push up and then back. James shoves in with his finger and swallows John all the way down. John shouts roughly, voice stilted.

John’s back is bowed so sharply that all that’s left on the mattress are his shoulders as his hips fuck up into James’s mouth and then back against his hand. He’s panting harshly, the other hand fisted in the sheets, knuckles turning white. He’s so close, James can see it written in the taut lines of his body, the way his stomach quivers, the way his thighs are trembling, he can hear it in the rasp of John’s voice as he begs James not to stop, as he tells James how good it feels.

James strokes over that sweet spot inside John’s body softly, fingers pressing, and John cries out, hips grinding, breath stopping, his whole body shaking from head to toe and then he’s flooding James’s mouth, salty, bitter tang that James savors before swallowing. The thick feel of him sliding down James’s throat makes James moan around John’s cock head. John gasps, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through him. His hips roll drawing it out until he has nothing left and then he collapses back to the mattress, sides heaving, sucking in huge gulps of air, body completely limp, sweat dotting his forehead and chest.

He kisses his way back up John’s body until he’s on his knees between John’s thighs. His cock aches and the first touch of his hand makes him hiss. He strokes his cock lazily as John’s eyes open slowly, a grin spreading across his face as he looks James over. John gets one of his hands behind him and lifts himself into a half sitting position. His fingers graze James’s cock head and James moans. John swats at his hand and takes over for James. John’s hand wraps around the shaft and he pulls up, pulls the foreskin with him over the head and James pushes into the touch. John lets go of him briefly to lick his palm and then he’s back, fist tight and wet, jerking James in a fast rhythm that steals his breath. John leans in, get his teeth into James’s neck and bites down, sucks hard at the skin. James’s left hand tunnels into John’s hair, holding him in place as he shoves his hips up into John’s fist.

John leans in, mouth close to James’s ear, “I want you to fuck me. I need to feel you.”

James gasps, his stomach clenches as pleasure rolls through him. He comes over John’s fist, the mere thought of getting inside of John’s tight heat sending him over the edge. He shivers hard as John continues to stroke him through it, his fingers playing over the head, squeezing to get every last drop. When James sits back on his heels John brings his hand to his mouth and licks his fingers clean, eyes locked on James’s face. James presses John back to the bed, mouths meeting, tongues tangling. He moans at the taste of himself on John’s tongue.

James turns to his side and pulls John’s back against his chest, “I’ll have to go get something if that’s really what you want.”

John turns in his arms, fingers skating across James’s jaw, “More than you know.”

James nods. John’s eyes are heavy, his breathing slowing down, evening out. He waits until he knows that John is fully asleep before pulling on his trousers and top and heading to the house. He and Thomas keep extra tins of slick in one of the pantry cabinets.

When he gets there Thomas is in the kitchen, cup in his hand. He turns when he hears the door and the lewd smile that immediately breaks over his face tells James that his appearance is as he imagined. Disheveled and well satisfied.

“I take it the flower went over well.”

James can feel himself blush, “Very.”

Before he can say more, Thomas asks, “Why are you back here? You should be with him.”

Instead of answering James goes to the cabinet and pulls out a small tin. He hears Thomas laugh behind him.

He turns back to Thomas a smile splitting his lips, “I’ll be back in the morning.”

“No you won’t. Spend the rest of the week with him.”

“What about you?”

“James, I’ve lived in this house for ten years without you, I think I can manage three or four days. He’s going to need you. And you remember what it’s like, don’t you? It wasn’t that long ago for us. The desperation to touch, to be touched, the way we couldn’t keep our hands and mouths off of one another. Do you really want to give that up?”

James approaches him and kisses him hard. Thomas moans as he sucks on James’s tongue. When he pulls back he buries his nose in James’s neck and then he pulls back suddenly.

“Christ, you smell like him, you taste like him.”

James is startled as Thomas all but rips the shirt from his back and begins to sniff James’s chest. “Sex and sweat, and something distinctly not you, you smell amazing.”

When Thomas looks up again his eyes are hazy, want clear in their depths. He leans back on the counter, hand going to his trousers. “Tell me.”

It takes James a second to realize that Thomas wants James to tell him about John. James leans in, nips at Thomas’s earlobe, “You want to hear about how I sucked his cock?”

Thomas fumbles his trousers open, his knuckles brush against James’s stomach as he starts to stroke himself, “Yes. Every detail.”

James pulls back enough to look down between them. He wets his thumbs and circles both of Thomas’s nipples through his shirt. Thomas hisses out a breath, fist tightening on the head of his cock.

“He’s so responsive. He holds nothing back, he’s beautifully delicate for a man as physically strong as he is. I tasted him everywhere. He was so hot and tight around my tongue, I can only imagine how he’ll feel on my cock.”

Thomas gasps, the hand on his cock speeding up, his other hand going to James’s shoulder, pressure pushing him to his knees.

“You should hear him.” James continues as he drops to the floor, “The way he begs, the way he moans for it, so open and honest. He fucked himself on my tongue, gasping for breath, holding my head, his ass slick and open.”

James watches as Thomas’s eyes slam closed, mouth falling open on a silent moan. His head falls back and a shudder works it way down his spine and James is entranced by the way he looks, taken over by pleasure, James’s words putting images in his head. Just as quickly as it started it comes to an end with Thomas squeezing the head of his cock and coming all over James’s chest, back bowed, legs trembling, soft little grunts as he works himself through it.

He slumps back against the counter, hand slowing before holding it out to James. James licks him clean. He closes his eyes and sucks each finger, his own cock taking an interest. When he stands Thomas kisses him again, tongue seeking every hidden corner of James’s mouth.

Thomas licks across James’s chest, collects the come there and feeds it slowly to James, bit by bit until he’s clean. By the time Thomas is finished James is fully hard. He presses close and Thomas shakes his head, “Save that, you’re going to need it. I have a feeling that boy is going to be insatiable.”

“God I hope so.” James says before swatting at Thomas’s retreating ass.

Thomas’s laughter floats back to him as Thomas makes his way up the stairs. James hesitates at the cabinet before grabbing another tin and making his way back to John. Once back at the cabin James disrobes and climbs into bed with John. He pulls John’s body flush against his and buries his nose in John’s hair.

***

James wakes up to feel of John's hands sliding over his thighs. When James opens his eyes John is on his stomach between James's legs.

He tries to reach for John but John shakes his head. He keeps his gaze locked with James’s, he takes James’s cock in his hand and licks across the tip. James just barely manages to keep his hips still. “Christ, John.”

John does it again and again, licking down one side and then back up the other. He feels himself getting hard under John's tongue. John seals his lips around the head and sucks. James moans, hips twitching. He holds as still as possible, knowing this is the first time John’s done this, James doesn’t want to scare him.

But God he wants to thrust into John's mouth. He wants to sink into the wet heat surrounding him. John's tentative at first. Only taking in a few inches. He comes back up and licks at the tip tasting James. He hums before going back down again. James is forced to fist his hands in the sheet to keep from holding John's head. He’s gritting his teeth hard enough to crack them.

He watches John's face for any sign of discomfort or apprehension. John sinks down a little further and James hits the back of his throat triggering John's gag reflex.

John pulls off coughing, “I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize. You make me feel so good.” James lowers one hand to trace John’s slick bottom lip, “Come here.”

John crawls up James’s body until he’s straddling James’s hips. James flips them quickly, putting John under him. He noses under John’s chin, runs his tongue down John’s throat until he can bite into the hollow. John sighs, body shivering. James presses kisses across his chest, down his stomach, his hands tracing light patterns on John’s arms and sides. He takes his time to taste John everywhere.

When John is as relaxed as he’s going to be, James reaches across the side of him and picks up one of the tins he’d brought back from the house.

“I went while you were sleeping.” He leaves out the part where Thomas got himself off to James’s replay of their afternoon.

John nods and James can see some of the tension seeping back into John. “There are other things we can do.” James says softly.

John shakes his head, “I want this. I’ve just never…” He waves between them.

James kisses him slowly. Meet and press of lips before pulling back, and then forward, licking along John’s bottom lip. John opens to him and James slips his tongue into John’s mouth. They meet in the middle, twisting over each other until James is licking over John’s teeth.

James pries the lid off the tin, slicks two fingers and reaches between John’s legs. The first soft stroke over John’s hole earns him a gasp and John’s wide eyes. He rubs his fingers over John gently, spreading the slick around. John’s eyes flutter closed on a soft _oh_

He spends long minutes just rubbing over John, massaging the thick grease in, making him wet, just barely pushing with the tip of his middle finger. As soon as John’s hips start to shift to meet him, James pushes gently.

John’s eyes snap open, body going tense. James leans in, takes John’s nipple between his lips and licks over it. John moans, and his body gives. James slips in to the second knuckle, keeping his mouth locked on John’s nipple as he pushes in further. Once he’s fully in, he releases John and looks up to his face.

There’s a small smile on John’s face, eyes closed. James pulls out slowly, watching the entire time and then pushes back in, one smooth motion, curling his finger and then John moans, mouth dropping open, pleasure washing over his face. A few more thrusts and John is pushing back to meet him, hips rocking down against James’s hand, huffing little moans on each push in that are making James’s blood boil.

He pulls out completely to add more slick and a second finger. Once again he goes slowly but this time John doesn’t tense up, knowing the pleasure that he can have, he waits out the burn James knows he must be feeling. When his hips roll down James pulls out and pushes back in faster this time. John hums, eyes glazed as he watches James.

James speeds up incrementally until he’s fucking his fingers in and out steadily, John thrusting to meet him halfway, broken moans and half formed words falling from his lips every time James brushes just right. When John is slick and open, James pulls free and John whimpers. James tries to put John on his stomach but John doesn't want it that way. James tries to tell him it will hurt less, and John doesn’t care, says he needs to see James’s face.

James relents. He gets to his knees between John’s thighs. He pushes a fingerful of the thick cream inside John’s body before liberally coating his cock. He plants one hand on the bed next to John’s shoulder and uses the other grip his cock. Pushing forward he watches John’s body part around him. John’s fingers dig into his forearms, nails biting in as he hisses out a breath. His brows furrow, discomfort written plainly on his face. He’s gulping in air and then blowing it out slowly trying to will his body to relax. The head pops in and James has to close his eyes. He plants his other hand over John’s shoulders, keeps his weight off of John. John’s breath is hitching, body tense as he bears down on James.

He has to bite his tongue to keep from slamming home. John is so fucking tight it’s almost painful, and hot enough to burn. Every instinct he has is demanding that he fuck into John hard and fast. John’s nowhere near ready for that, body still trying to get over the pain of James’s flared head breaching him.

John’s hips twitch and James’s moans, sliding in a few more inches he forces himself to be still. His head is hanging between his shoulders, hair damp, sweat sliding down his neck. He can feel the tremors start in his arms, knows he’s going to need to move soon. “Breath out.”

The second John starts James slides the rest of the way home, bottoming out with a loud moan. James looks down, sees John’s cock has gone mostly soft, “It gets better. I swear it.”

“I know.” John answers through gritted teeth.

James pulls back and then slides home again. He refuses to rush this. He’s waited so long, wanted John so much that he intends to savor every second of it. Pressing a kiss to John’s temple he makes the same steady in and out until John’s breath changes, and his face softens.

The slide gets easier and he can feel John’s body sucking at him, feels John’s rim pulling him back in and then John’s body starts to rock with his. When James looks up, John has pulled his bottom lip pulled into his mouth, his eyes are closed, head tossed back, he looks decadent.

He keeps his rhythm slow, long drag out, even longer slide back in. John is undulating under him, cock hard once more as he follows James’s lead. James leans in, changes the angle, bites at John’s throat. John’s body jerks as James hammers at the sweet spot inside him.

“Fuck, do that again.”

James does, over and over until John is crying out, clawing at the sheets, body working with James’s to gain the maximum amount of pleasure. James reaches between them, takes John’s cock in his fist, pumps his hand in counter. John is panting, chest heaving, sweat pooling in the hollow of his throat, hair spread out under him like a dark halo, James tightens his hand over the head and John’s body arches off the bed. His mouth opens on a low moan, cock twitching before he comes over James’s fingers. His body continues to shake after he collapses back to the bed but the smile that spreads over his face is satisfaction personified.

John’s body tightens down on him and James feels his eyes slide closed, heat pooling in his stomach, pleasure stealing through him. A tremor runs down his spine as he drives his hips forward. John’s hand slides around James’s neck, finger digging in, slipping up into his hair. He pulls James down, brings their mouths together. It’s barely more than James panting into John’s mouth. James pulls back, his eyes finding John’s.

It’s not the feeling of John’s body clutching at him that pushes him over the edge, it’s the look on John’s face. It’s the love he can almost feel like a touch shining from his eyes that sends James crashing headlong in the abyss. He gasps out a harsh breath, hips stuttering as he empties himself inside John’s body, searing heat simmers under his skin lighting up his nerve endings. James grinds in deep, cock pulsing, throbbing with his heartbeat. John’s hands run over his shoulders down his arms and then back up into his hair. The gentling touch only prolonging James’s orgasm. He can’t help but collapse onto John.

John’s hands continue to run the length of his arms and over his shoulders, rifling through his hair, before tracing his spine. James can’t stop the shiver at the soft touch of John’s fingertips. He lifts himself carefully, his softening cock pulling free of John’s body. John lets go of a barely audible whimper as James slips out of him. James lays on his side, pulls John’s body into his and places soft kisses over his cheeks. John’s eyes are sleep heavy and sated when they meet James’s. James rubs his fingers through John’s hair, massages his scalp and before James knows it John is out for the count.

He watches John sleep until his own eyes begin to droop.

John wakes him up twice during the night, restless and needy, body rubbing against his, and there is no chance that James is going to say no.

Later in the day when both of their stomachs are rumbling, James gets dressed and prepares to go to the house for food but once he opens the door he finds a basket on John’s small porch. He laughs and it draws John’s attention. There is dried meat, fruit, bread and sweets. Next to the basket are two covered pitchers of water. James can only smile. John sidles up behind him, wrapped in nothing but a quilt, crutch under his arm.

John smiles wide, “That means you can come back to bed.” He drops the quilt and James is treated to the spectacular view of John’s ass as he hobbles back across the room. James pulls the basket and water in quickly before meeting John back in bed. They don’t leave the cabin for four days. Thomas leaves them another care package a day later and James has never felt more content.


	4. The seasons of my life

The adjustment period is slow and their life becomes easier and harder in equal measures. The tension that had once simmered in the air between James and John has all but dissipated. The way John has opened back up to him has soothed the wound in James’s soul. John is more forthcoming now, telling James about the children he taught in the Carolinas, and the Yamacraw children he’s teaching now.

He’s less withdrawn, his smile is ever ready the way it had been when they’d first met, before the weight of war had taken all of their good humor. The immediate physicality of their renewed relationship sometimes leaves James reeling with how powerful John’s need for him really is. John’s appetite is nearly insatiable, unlike anything James has ever seen or experienced with any lover in the past.

Neither of them refrain from the touching that they’d once curtailed. Now when James looks at John’s mouth a little too long, he gets a heated smile and more often than not a searing kiss that has more than once turned into a full blown afternoon of kissing just for kissing’s sake.

James can’t recall the number of times John has practically tackled him to the ground beside the garden. James is left breathless by the way John seems to want him endlessly. John is holding nothing back from James, now. His every want, his every desire is on full display and he revels in the attention James gives him. James has never encountered anyone as hedonistic as John. All it takes is one touch and John is surrendering fully.

But John’s interactions with Thomas have gone from pleasant and friendly to merely cordial and John being damn near mute whenever Thomas is around. Thomas, while patient and understanding, is beginning to fear that he’ll never be able to truly connect with John, even on the most basic level.

“I don’t know what to do, James. He shies away from me every time I approach. I’ve found myself being jealous of your ability to coax a smile from him when I can’t.” Thomas is watching John through the kitchen window while he’s in the corral brushing Sadie. “Even if he never shares our bed, I want his friendship. I want him to be comfortable around me, if for no other reason than for your sake.”

James doesn’t have any words of comfort. He knows that John’s mind is working over their situation. He can see it behind John’s eyes every time he observes Thomas and James together. He can see the curious way John covertly watches Thomas. James knows there’s a very good chance John will end up in their bed and the relationship that both he and Thomas want with John will come to fruition, but it won’t happen immediately and nothing he says to Thomas seems to soothe him.

That evening at dinner Thomas breaks out the whiskey and the three of them spend an hour indulging more than is strictly necessary. James can barely take his eyes off of the lazy way John lounges on the settee. His body is loose, and every time he looks at James his eyes get darker. James can’t help but notice that Thomas is just as enthralled by John’s heavy lidded gaze as James is himself. Thomas’s eyes linger on John’s body, tongue darting out to lick his lips as John tilts his head back to swallow the last of his drink.

Thomas downs the last of his own drink and takes a deep breath, James braces for impact.

“Why won’t you look at me anymore?” Thomas’s eyes bore into John.

James sees the shutters going down over John’s eyes and Thomas stands, advancing on John’s position. “Don’t do that. Don’t shut yourself away so that I can’t see you.”

John is startled, no one has ever called him on it before, no one other than James. John’s eyes tracks Thomas’s slow movement across the room warily. Thomas drops down onto the opposite end of the settee across from John. John immediately straightens, back ramrod straight as he continues to watch Thomas, eyes narrowed slightly.

“Are you angry with me?” Thomas moves a few inches closer.

“No, of course not.” John is quick to answer, emphatic that’s not the case.

James sees John’s eyes lower and it hits James like a bolt of lightning. John’s sudden issue with Thomas isn’t anger or resentment, it’s uncertainty and if James is reading him correctly, guilt.

“We used to have somewhat of a rapport. And now, nothing. I don’t understand why.” Thomas nearly pouts.

John looks to James and then back to Thomas. Thomas moves again, and James can see that John is debating whether or not to flee. Thomas grazes his fingers over the back of John’s hand and John jumps slightly.

“Don’t you find it awkward, this situation between the three of us? James is spending more time at the cabin lately, doesn’t that bother you?” There’s a miniscule waiver to John’s voice.

Thomas smiles at him sharply, “Do I find it awkward that James is fucking us both? Not in the least.” John’s eyes go wide and James barely contains his laughter. “You love him, I love him, he loves both of us, it’s not so complicated is it?.” Thomas moves closer still, “You know the hopes that James and I have for this, for you. I know that’s not on offer, but I had hoped that you and I could at least find some common ground, that we could at least form a friendship. We were on that path before, we could be again.”

John stares at him for several long minutes, their eyes holding. James damn near holds his breath. If John can’t find his way to even simple friendship with Thomas James doesn’t know what he’ll do. James doesn’t know what John is looking for in Thomas’s eyes but he must find it. He smiles at Thomas tentatively, Thomas returns it with a goofy grin and the both of them laugh.

Thomas leans back on the settee and asks, “So tell me how you came to teach numbers to children in the Carolinas?”

John is stiff at first, but Thomas’s attentiveness and James’s encouragement begin to bring forth the storyteller that John has always been. Thomas’s eyes never leave John’s face, his own a mask of near adoration. John tells the story about how he’d had to tell the townspeople that his fiance was on her way over on a steamer to keep the local women from trying to set him up with their daughters or worse yet, get him into their beds behind their husband’s backs.

After several months he’d had to spin another tale. This one of woe as he told the townspeople about her ship being attacked and her untimely death, his mourning thereafter of his one true love keeping the woman and girls at bay once more.

Thomas was absolutely gleeful at John’s ingenuity and subterfuge. By the time they were all yawning Thomas had managed to move close enough to John that there was barely any space between them and instead of John curling in on himself as he’d done when Thomas had first approached, he had instead continued to spread out, mostly facing Thomas, his right leg pulled onto the settee between them.

Just as Thomas is saying good night he places his hand on John’s knee and squeezes, John’s smile is soft, his eyes curious as they follow Thomas from the room. When James moves into Thomas’s vacated space John leans into him and tilts his head. James kisses him softly at first until John leans backward pulling James with him.

They trade soft kisses back forth, tongues sliding together, lips slipping slickly over one another. John’s hips eventually start a slow gentle roll, his head going back as James mouths down his neck, teeth nipping at skin. They generally don’t do this here and he’s surprised that John started it. Most of the time John will shy away from contact in the house when he knows Thomas is here.

James wonders if it's the whiskey or if it was Thomas’s boldness and subsequent attention to John that turned the tables. James sucks at John’s collarbone and John moans, loud enough that there’s no way Thomas hasn’t heard. When John doesn’t go still under him, James rolls his hips down as a test. He gets an answering push from John just before he slings his right leg over James’s waist. His fingers tunnel through James’s hair, nails scraping over his scalp. It sends goosebumps skittering over his skin. God but he loves the way John wants him.

“We should move this to the cabin.” James says just in time to look up and see Thomas in the doorway. John just hums at him, making no effort to move, eyes closed, blissful look on his face. Thomas has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and his eyes are hungry as they watch the way John’s body moves under James. When their eyes meet Thomas shakes his head, mouths the word _stay_ at him.

Thomas leans against the doorframe as he watches. James surges against John, mouth seeking John’s, he ruts down against him, their movements frantic. John’s head goes back on a gasp as he thrusts up to meet James’s hips. He’s undulating under James, body rocking, hands grasping James’s back. He licks up John’s neck just to hear him moan again, if Thomas wants a show, he’ll get one.

James feels only slightly guilty, he’d given John an out, he hadn’t taken it. James talks lowly to John, tells him how good he feels, tells him how much he wants John. John’s breath starts to come faster and he’s letting loose mewling little moans that go straight to James’s cock. When he chances a look at the door Thomas has his hand shoved down his pants, lips pulled between his teeth, eyes zeroed in on John’s face. Thomas’s arm is moving fast, breath shallow, his other hand white knuckled on the door frame. James moves faster as John clutches at him. John is close, James knows the signs, can feel it in the tremors that are starting in John’s legs, hears it in the hitching way his breath stutters out.

John’s eyes fly open on a broken moan as his body starts to shake, his head turns and James knows he can see Thomas but James knows John is too far gone to stop. John comes in shuddering waves, eyes glued to Thomas for long moments before slipping closed once more as he hugs James to him. James rocks down hard, finds his own release against the heat of John’s body, bites into John’s shoulder to muffle his shout. When he looks to the doorway again Thomas is gone.

James wonders how much hell he’ll have to pay for this.

***

Much to his surprise neither Thomas or John bring it up, and the distance that had crept up between them, doesn’t make a reappearance. They’re just as at ease with each other as they had been when Thomas had gone up to bed. It’s as if the encounter on the settee never even happened. Unless he were to count the way that neither of them can stop looking at the other. Thomas completely unabashedly and John from under his lashes, or out the corner of his eye. Some days he’s afraid that if he were to stand between them the heat coming off both of them would physically burn him.

He watches them trade good natured barbs over the dinner table and more than once James is taken back ten years to a study that no longer exists. James realizes that this must have been the view Miranda had then, when he and Thomas were circling one another before that first kiss.

John has asked Thomas to accompany him into town, or to the Yamacraw lands and Thomas has been eager to say yes each time. Thomas has taken to touching John in any way he can, small touches to his arm, or his shoulder. Once Thomas had brushed his fingers absently through John’s hair and John had shivered, breath catching, a barely audible half moan dropping from his lips. He’d turned toward Thomas, eyes heavy, his body an unconscious open invitation. They’d stayed that way, each staring at the other until finally John had stepped back, cheeks flushed, breath shallow, eyes bright. He’d excused himself to the stables and Thomas had all but collapsed back against the counter turning to James in awe, “He’s exquisite.”

James thinks that the complete and utter satisfaction thrumming through his veins as he watches them dance around one another is probably not the appropriate reaction; but he’s not above reaping the rewards of the frantic way Thomas takes him some nights, desperate and needy. James completely recognizes it as being driven by John’s continued perusal of Thomas’s attention. Thomas is beginning to recognize the signs of it too, he’s seeing it the same way James is. Thomas is waiting for John to make a definitive move, and in the interim he’ll fuck James nearly unconscious every time he has an encounter with John and James is more than happy to bear that burden.

***

They’re in town, the three of them, when John sees a slave trader setting up for auction. Before John can take more than a step in his direction, James is behind him, his arm a tight band around John’s chest, his mouth close to John’s ear, “Not here.”

John fights against him briefly, breath heavy, body primed for a fight. James is barely able to make him see reason. James believes the only thing holding John back from breaking free of James’s hold is Thomas in his immediate line of sight. John eventually relents but the anger doesn’t receded. John is silent the entire ride home, face a mask of barely contained rage.

Once the horses are penned and they’re all back in the house, John lets loose. “Why the fuck wouldn’t you let me do something? Why didn’t you do something?”

James has no answers, he doesn’t know how to explain. It’s not that simple here.

“We do what we can, but causing a scene in the middle of town, when there are few on our side is never a wise plan.” Thomas interjects.

“Do what you can? You’ve done nothing.” John’s voice is riddled with irritation.

“Do I hold slaves, John? Are there slaves anywhere on this property?” Thomas waves toward the window.

“Your lack of possession doesn’t make your silence any less guilty.”

“What would you have me do exactly? Go door to door perhaps? Demand that every property owner let their slaves go? I’d be shot on sight. I do what I can. We have a group, we’re trying to make the Governors see reason. We have propositions written and we’re taking them to the government but it’s a slow process. Changing a man's mind is difficult work. Making them see reason is even harder,” Thomas pauses, “I understand how you feel.”

John levels him with a hard look, “You don’t.”

Thomas’s shoulders sag, “You’re right, I don’t, but that doesn’t mean that I’m not trying to change things.”

John says nothing just turns and leaves the house. When James makes to go after him, Thomas stops him. “Let him go. He needs space.”

“He can’t hold it against you that things aren’t moving fast enough.”

“He has a very different view of the world. He’s had very different experiences than we have. It’s not as simple for him as it is for us. He may have picked you, but he loved her too. I can only imagine the horrors that he’s been privy to. Her fight became his and he can’t simply put those feelings aside.”

That evening at dinner John apologizes and Thomas won’t hear of it. After, Thomas asks John if he’d like to see what Thomas and his group are working on. He tells John that maybe he could provide some insight.

James spends the next several hours watching as Thomas shows John everything. John softens with each document that Thomas produces. He begins to understand that while Thomas may not be out fighting with hands and fists, he’s fighting nonetheless and his way of battle is just as important. He watches the admiration and respect building in John’s eyes at Thomas’s ideals. John sees him, see who Thomas is at his core.

The shift in their dynamic happens almost imperceptibly. John begins to seek Thomas out with more frequency than he already had. He offers his opinion more openly. He and Thomas spend long hours debating strategy. James watches the light that had lit in Thomas’s eyes months ago flare brighter each day. He watches as John’s trust of Thomas grows. James can only sit back, hope blossoming in his chest with each passing day.

John has begun to reciprocate Thomas’s touch and instigate some of his own much to Thomas’s delight. John will slide his fingers alongs Thomas’s bare arm as he exits a room leaving Thomas nearly breathless. He’ll settle himself close to Thomas as they stand at Thomas’s desk, their arms and legs brushing, James can almost feel the arousal that simmers under Thomas’s skin.

When Thomas offers to take John with him to a meeting at Abigail’s, John eagerly agrees. James is a ball of nerves the entire time they’re gone. They don’t appear until almost dusk. James hears their laughter as they come up the walk. He can tell by their tone that they’ve been drinking. They meet James in the kitchen, both of them giving him an enthusiastic greeting.

It’s the first time John has allowed himself to show this much affection for James in front of Thomas. James watches Thomas pour John a glass of water and when he hands it off John’s fingers linger over Thomas’s and there’s a flash in John’s eyes at the contact. Thomas leans against the counter next to him, a head taller than John, he's directly in John's space and John not only allows it, he moves closer to Thomas, their knees just barely brushing.

“Thank you for coming today. Your insight was invaluable. I think some of the stories you relayed struck a chord with the Governor.” Thomas’s eyes skate over John’s face.

John smiles at him, head tilted slightly to the side, he turns to face Thomas, body swaying, as he blinks slowly up at Thomas. James knows that look. John may not recognize it in himself yet, but James knows for certain now that John is interested. He’s flirting with Thomas, his body is open and inviting, he’s baring his neck to Thomas with that welcoming look on his face and James has to bite his tongue to keep from shouting with joy. James knows it’s only a matter of time now.

Thomas brushes his fingers against John’s arm, asks if he’d like to help with dinner. John bites the corner of his lip and nods. James makes himself scarce, busying himself with setting the table and folding linens. Every few minutes he’ll hear John’s soft laugh and every time James can’t help but smile. Thomas, who had once been jealous of James’s ability to make John smile is now coaxing full on laughter out of him.

James peeks around the corner, John has his back to Thomas as he dumps cut vegetables into a pot. When he turns back Thomas is standing closer than John had expected and he wobbles slightly. Thomas reaches out, one hand going to John’s hip, the other going to his elbow, their bodies only inches apart. Their eyes connect and James can feel the tension from where he stands. His breath stops as he sees Thomas’s eyes drop to John’s mouth. John’s tongue darts out, touching the corner of his bottom lip. Thomas’s hand slides up John's arm, over his shoulder, thumb stopping on the side of John's throat before stroking gently back and forth. John’s eyes flutter closed and his breath catches before he takes a small step back. Thomas only smiles at him and they go back to working side by side.

There’s so much banked heat bouncing between them during dinner that James thinks he might combust from it himself. He watches them watch each other. Thomas outright admires John, making no secret of the fact that he’s watching John’s mouth as he eats and drinks and John while he doesn’t blush exactly, ducks his head and sends Thomas sly smiles across the table.

James is waiting for Thomas to throw his fork down, toss John across the table and have him right then and there. What happens instead is that as soon as the dishes are put away, Thomas whispers to James, “Take him to bed, he’s panting for it. Get the scent of him all over you and then bring it back to me.” James can only nod and acknowledge how lucky he truly is.

That night John rides him ferociously, hungry in a way that should makes James jealous because he knows full well that behind John’s closed eyes he’s seeing Thomas. In his mind it’s Thomas below him, Thomas’s hands on him, Thomas’s cock in him. He’s reliving the way Thomas had petted him tonight, the way Thomas had looked at him, want clear in his eyes. John comes hard across James’s chest and then proceeds to rub it into James’s skin, almost as if he knows that Thomas wants to taste him. As he watches John sleep he hopes that soon it will be the three of them.

He crawls into bed beside Thomas just before dawn. Thomas stirs, “Good?”

“Incredible. He was desperate for it. He was thinking of you. He wants you, he just has to come to it on his own.”

Thomas runs his tongue down the center of James’s chest. He moans at the lingering taste of sex on James’s skin. He inhales sharply, pulling the faint scent of John into him. When Thomas fucks him that morning, it’s hard and fast, his fingers bruising where they the hold James’s hips, lips pressed to James’s rib cage, nose buried in James’s chest hair. James thinks he should feel something other than helpless lust at being the conduit between them but he can’t fathom what. There is nothing better to him than the two men he loves, wanting each other, having each other through him until they can find their way _to_ each other. If this is what it takes to get them there, James has never been more willing.

Several days later they’re discussing the tentative agreement the Yamacraw have reached with the traders and the Governor's when John’s ire goes up at an off handed flippant comment.

“Hold on, are you trying to tell me that by teaching them how to read and write english we’re making up for stripping their lands from them? That they should be grateful to us?” John’s incredulousness is blatantly obvious.

“Not entirely no, they are being allotted land as well, to do with as they see fit.” Thomas answers.

John snorts, “How generous. Have you seen those plots of land? They’re miniscule. Barely enough for them to settle on. We're taking their land, we’re murdering their children, raping their women and no one sees anything wrong with this?”

“I didn’t say it was ideal.” Thomas sighs and comes around his desk to sit on the edge facing John. “But they’re murdering innocent people, John, something has to be done.”

“They're only retaliating for what we started. We enticed them, and then forced them into debt. Which we then called in without fair warning. And now that we’ve bargained some sort of peace, we keep pushing them farther away from their homeland. Land that is sacred to them.”

“Sometimes progress is ugly.” Thomas says gently.

John snorts. “Progress? That’s not progress that’s brutality just for the sake of it.”

Thomas steps to John’s side, hand on his forearm, his voice soft, pleading “Tell me what you want me to do. Tell me how you think we can fix it. You know I’ll listen.”

John turns his head and James sees the very second the spark starts. It arcs from Thomas’s eyes to John’s. John swallows hard and James can almost taste the tension. John’s eyes drop to Thomas’s mouth, his own lips parting, the tip of his tongue sliding wetly along his bottom lip.

James sees Thomas’s eyes track the movement, sees Thomas’s eyes go dark. His nostrils flare and James is reminded of the way a stud will scent a mare in heat. Thomas takes a single step closer. John draws a quick breath, his head tips back to keep eye contact, his eyelids lowering just slightly. James can see the desperate want written on his face from here. He see Thomas start to lean in, hears John’s breath stutter. James expects a kiss, what happens instead is that John steps back suddenly, eyes on the floor, “I-I don’t know. It’s late, I should go.”

James starts to follow him but John holds up his hand. Thomas waits until the screen bangs before dropping into a chair, head in hands. “Fuck. What did I do wrong?”

James drops to the floor in front of Thomas, “Nothing. He just needs more time.”

Thomas sighs, “Go see to him.”

James only nods. By the time he reaches the cabin John is half undressed, eyes wild. He has James pinned against the door in a second, body radiating heat, cock already hard and James smiles into the kiss. It’s biting and hard, pent up frustration pouring off of John like a fever.

When they finally make it to the bed, John sprawls out on his stomach, legs spread and James wastes no time. He opens him quickly, fingers fucking in fast and hard, John mewling underneath him as if it’s been ages since James was in him instead of hours, desperate enough to hold himself open as James works his cock in.

John is demanding and frenetic underneath him. He fucks himself back against James in a bruising rhythm, body strung tight. He comes without a single touch to his cock, fist shoved in his mouth, James suspects to keep from calling out for Thomas.

Later when John’s lying in the circle of his arms he whispers to John, “There’s nothing wrong with wanting him.”

John says nothing just lets out a deep breath before placing a kiss in the center of James’s palm.

***

Thomas has him pressed against the sink hand working the button on James’s trousers, both of them shirtless, mouths pressing slick and wet over bared skin when they hear the screen door bang followed by a sharply indrawn breath. James closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I thought I’d be longer.” John’s voice is soft, apologetic.

Thomas shakes his head as he looks over James’s shoulder. James turns his head halfway and can only see part of John’s face. He doesn’t know what passes between the two of them but when Thomas looks back at him, the look he gives James says unequivocally that Thomas thinks its time. He untangles himself from James and makes his way upstairs.

James watches John carefully and doesn’t miss the way John’s eyes follow Thomas out of the room. His gaze sliding slowly down Thomas’s bare back. He doesn’t miss the slight quickening of John’s breath, or the way his tongue flicks along his bottom lip. He sees the flare of heat in John’s eyes and he thinks Thomas was right. James takes a chance.

“He’s easy to look at isn’t he?” James keeps his tone low, intimate.

John doesn’t hesitate, voice slightly raw, “Very.”

As if realizing what he’d said, John’s head snaps to the side to look at him, his eyes narrowing. He starts to speak to but James shakes his head. John’s been here with them almost a year now and he’ been back in James’s bed for more than half that. James knows that Thomas is well on his way to falling in love with John. He sees it more and more each day and while perhaps James should be jealous, he finds only happiness. He knows that Thomas already desires John physically and even if John isn’t willing to admit it out loud quite yet, he knows that feeling is mutual.

“Do you trust me?”

John nods and then James takes his hand. He leads John to his and Thomas’s bedroom. When they push the door open Thomas is standing at the dresser, stark naked, hip cocked against the edge of the wood as he waits for them.

James watches John, he hears the sharp breathy exhale, sees the darkening of his eyes as they roam over Thomas’s naked body. Looking at him now it’s almost like seeing Thomas for the first time. He’s pale and trim, sleekly defined muscle lining his stomach, arms and thighs, the dark blond hair scattered over his his arms and legs catching in the sunlight streaming through the windows. He is absolutely enticing.

Thomas starts toward them, one slow step at a time and James sees John’s pulse speed up, sees the rapid beat of it in his neck. He takes a step back to stand directly behind John as Thomas advances. He stops just inches away and James can see John’s fingers twitch, like he wants to touch but doesn’t know if he can. When Thomas reaches out James sees the fine tremor in his hand, the only evidence of the nervousness that James is certain he’s feeling. Thomas has told James more than once that he doesn’t want to push John, that he doesn’t want to frighten him. They all know this is the moment that will either make them or break them.

When Thomas reaches out he runs the backs of his knuckles over John’s cheek. John’s mouth parts on a soft puff of air and his eyes slip closed, pleasure stealing over his features. Thomas wastes no time in closing the distance between them. He brushes his lips over John’s softly, tentatively. John makes to follow him as he pulls back and James can almost feel the tension break into a thousand shards as Thomas finally gets to taste him. He seals their mouths together and John moans into the kiss, hands coming up and clutching at Thomas’s sides, his fingers greedy as they slide all over Thomas’s skin. John is trying to touch him everywhere all at once.

James lets out a long, slow breath as his hands come around to begin unbuttoning John’s shirt. Thomas breaks away from John’s mouth and he drops to his knees. He works on John’s trousers as John looks down at him. James meets Thomas’s eyes briefly over John’s shoulder, it’s almost as if Thomas is asking permission and James only nods. John leans back into James’s body, and James feels a shiver run the length of John as Thomas licks up the underside of John’s cock.

John moans loud, hips jutting forward, hands scrabbling over Thomas’s head. James watches John’s face, his eyes are half lidded, gaze zeroed in on Thomas’s mouth where it stretches around his cock. The fingers of one hand slide over Thomas’s lips, feeling himself from the outside, fingertips pressing into Thomas’s cheeks. Thomas hollows his cheeks, goes down until his nose is touching John’s groin and if John’s moans is any indication Thomas has swallowed around him and James knows exactly how good that feels.

James encourages John to pump his hips, and when he takes the suggestion, his head falls back to James’s shoulder, mouth open, panting breath ghosting along James’s neck. He loves the way John looks. James feels his own cock twitch in his pants. John grinds his ass back into James’s cock and James can’t stop the moan. Thomas’s eyes snap open and he looks up at both of them, gaze darting between their faces. His eyes are bright, shining with want as he half smiles around the cock in his mouth. There’s happiness and desire and contentment in Thomas’s eyes, James’s heart swells, everything that he’s ever wanted, that he’d ever dreamed of having is right here his for the taking.

He holds eye contact with Thomas as he turns John’s head. He licks into John’s mouth, the angle is awkward and the kiss is sloppy but it’s worth it to watch desire flare bright in Thomas’s eyes. John reaches behind him, cups James’s cock in his hand and squeezes once. James’s hips rut forward, pushing his covered cock into the crack of John’s ass. John gasps, arms stretching up and around behind James’s head. He elongates his body, goes up on his toes and rubs himself against James. Thomas lets John’s cock fall from his mouth to stare at John, eyes tracing the muscles standing out along John’s body. He leans up, licks along John’s hip, across his stomach, biting as he goes.

James slides a finger between John’s cheeks, taps over his hole and John shudders hard, mouth opening to beg, “Please.” He writhes back against James’s hand and Thomas can only stare, breathless and mesmerized at the way John’s hips roll against him. James is used to the sensual way John reacts, the way he gives over so easy, but this is the first time Thomas is seeing it full on, their encounter on the couch hadn’t given away quite this much.

“Do it again.” Thomas whispers.

James pushes against John’s hole and his body undulates, a low moan escaping him, as he rubs against James.

“Christ. We have to have him between us. You inside him and him inside me, can you imagine what the overstimulation will do?” Thomas’s voice is eager and awed. He moves forward and wraps his fingers lightly around John’s cock. Each stroke sends another shiver through John, his body arching and swaying, barely audible pleas escaping him and Thomas is ensnared.

Thomas moves away to the bed, settles down on his side facing them, reaching under the pillow. James finishes undressing them both, he guides John to the bed. Thomas is there, tin of slick in his hand as his eyes devour John. If James didn’t understand exactly what Thomas was feeling right now he might find jealousy flaring inside him but the look on Thomas’s face only reminds him what it had been like the first time he’d taken John to bed. John had never been with a man and every sound, every reaction that James had pulled out of John had been inspiring. The way John had reacted, the easy way his body had given in, James understands how it feels. James lays him down so that he’s facing Thomas, bringing John’s left leg over his hip.

Thomas slicks two of his fingers and hesitates, again looking to James first and then to John. John holds Thomas’s eyes for several seconds before nodding. At the first tentative swipe of Thomas’s fingers over John’s hole John hums in the back of his throat, hips pushing down. Thomas leans forward, mouth dragging over John’s throat as he scoots closer.

James watches Thomas’s hand between them, knows the very second he pushes forward, tip of his fingers sliding into John’s body. John’s head thuds back onto his shoulder, a ragged broken moan leaving him and God he’s so beautiful. James sees the way Thomas drinks everything in, he knows Thomas is filing it away in case they never get here again. But James has no doubt. He’s watched them slowly fall in love with each other. It’s only a matter of time before the two of them realize it as well. James is patient, he’s willing to wait them out.

Thomas’s arm starts to move faster, two fingers inside John’s body. John is fucking down against Thomas’s hand, soft moans accompanying his harsh panting breaths as he works himself open. James leans in, bites across John’s shoulder blades, as Thomas sucks at his nipples. John is barely coherent, begging to be fucked.

Thomas pulls his fingers free, leans over to slick James’s cock before pulling away. James slides up closer behind John, cock nudging at John’s hole. John reaches back, arm going over James’s side to pull him close. James moves forward, cock pressing into John’s impossibly tight heat. James’s eyes fall closed, pleasure stealing through him. John moans as James bottoms out, hips pushing back, hand clutching at James’s ass to pull him forward. They’re pressed so tight together from shoulder to knee and James shivers at the feel of John’s body moving against his.

“You’re beautiful together.” Thomas’s voice is filled with reverence. Thomas is kneeling next to them, eyes dark as he takes them in from head to toe. John hums and reaches out to run his fingers over Thomas’s chest and stomach. Thomas sucks in a startled breath and James sees John smile at him and crook a finger. Thomas lies close and John pulls him in for a kiss, it’s wet and deep and James loves the way they look.

Thomas pulls back to slick his fingers again, this time his arm goes behind his own back. James rolls his hips in slow, tiny circles keeping him and John connected as they both watch Thomas work himself open. He’s flushed down to the middle of his chest, cock hard and wet at the tip. John reaches out, swipes his thumb over the head before bringing it to his mouth. Thomas moans as he watches John suck the taste off his fingertip. Thomas doesn’t waste time, he lies on his side back to John and scoots back until they’re touching.

John dips his fingers in the pot Thomas had laid aside and his arm disappears between them. Thomas moans, body jolting and James leans over John’s shoulder to watch. John is circling Thomas’s hole slowly. Thomas wiggles back against him, trying to get John inside him. John licks across the back of Thomas’s neck and James sees goosebumps break out over Thomas’s body.

John finally breaches Thomas’s body with two fingers and Thomas shivers, body bucking, a low moan breaking free. John fucks Thomas with his fingers in short, sure strokes until Thomas is pulling John’s hand free and slicking John’s cock. James goes still behind John while John slowly works his way into Thomas’s body.

John’s head is pressed to Thomas’s back, sides heaving hard as he pants at the feel of Thomas tight around him. When John pulls his hips back to thrust, James pushes forward. John cries out, fingers clutching at Thomas’s hip.

“Oh fuck, I can’t--” He breaks off in a moan as James thrusts forward again, driving John’s cock into Thomas’s body.

James puts his hand over John’s where it’s laying on Thomas’s hip. James and Thomas move in tandem, setting a fast rhythm. John is between them nearly paralyzed with the dual sensation of fucking and being fucked. He’s moaning incoherently, hips moving raggedly between them. John’s hips stutter as he works himself forward into Thomas’s body and then backward onto James’s cock. His breathing is choppy, half broken moans falling from his lips, eyes squeezed shut, one hand clutched against Thomas’s side the other holding the headboard.

John is losing his rhythm, body tightening as he gets closer to his own orgasm. James pushes him forward, fucking in hard and fast, driving him into Thomas’s body the same time as Thomas is pushing back against him, ass no doubt sucking John’s cock in.

James can see Thomas stripping his cock, head pressed back against John’s shoulder as John’s teeth leave impressions up and down his neck. James moves John’s fingers to Thomas’s nipple. He tugs at the hard peaks wringing a ragged moan from Thomas’s lips. James hears Thomas gasp, see his body shudder and then he’s coming over his fingers. John presses forward, hips rotating as Thomas’s breath hitches. John takes Thomas’s fingers and sucks them clean, moaning around them as James continues to fuck into him.

He pulls out gently, gets to his back and pulls John on top of him with John’s back to his chest. James spreads his legs Thomas gets between them. He steadies John with one hand as he slides back down onto James’s cock, the other going to John’s cock.

John rides him hard, fucking up into Thomas’s first and then down on to James’s cock, hips circling and grinding. John leans back, hands on James’s chest. Thomas sucks at John’s nipples. He’s barely breathing, body shuddering and then he’s squeezing down on James’s cock, ass tight as a vice as he comes. Thomas is poised over the head of John’s cock catching most of it on his tongue as John collapses back onto James’s chest.

James rolls them, puts John on his stomach. He isn’t going to last long. It’s too fucking good, having them both here, seeing them like this. He feels Thomas’s tongue swipe over his hole, and James shouts. Hips stuttering forward. There is no way James can last this way. Not with the way John’s ass is still so tight around his cock and Thomas’s tongue in his ass. Thomas slides his finger in next to his tongue and James’s body seizes, eyes slamming closed. He bites into John’s shoulder, cock pulsing hotly deep inside John. He hears John moan under him at the feel of it, feels him clench and it makes James shiver.

He manages to slide off of John and roll to his back. He pulls John into one side and Thomas into the other as he tries to catch his breath.

“Shit.” John is still breathless, “Why the fuck did I wait so long?”

Thomas buries his laughter in James’s side before getting up to wet a cloth and wipe them all down. They settle into companionable silence and before long John has dropped off into sleep. When he looks down at Thomas, Thomas is staring across at John, a small smile playing on his lips. He reaches out and twists one curl around his finger before letting it spring back. James feels the fractured places inside himself knitting together as the final piece of their puzzle fits into place.

The next morning is only marginally awkward until Thomas slaps John on the ass as he asks him when he wants to move his things over from the cabin. John fish mouths at him for a few seconds before Thomas says, “Unless you’d rather not. In which case I hope you’ll reconsider.” All while looking at John like a kicked puppy.

Finally John gives him a filthy smile and tells him they’ll worry about it later before taking Thomas’s cock into his mouth.

***

A few days later as James is going through some steamer trunks in the barn, he comes across one that contains a bag of Miranda’s. When he opens it Miranda’s perfume wafts up to him and tears instantly spring to his eyes. Inside the bag is a small pot of rouge, a stick of lip color and a pair of gloves. He digs further into the trunk pulling out a shawl, a diary, several pairs of shoes and three pairs of silk stockings. James doesn’t know how Thomas managed to save even this much and transport it here.

James picks up each item and inspects it, memories of their time together in London flooding him, and later from Nassau before things had become so strained between them. Above all, James regrets letting his need for revenge get the best of him and leaving her alone so often. He wishes he’d been more accommodating, he wishes he’d spent more time with her the way she’d wanted. If wishes were horses, James thinks.

He doesn’t know how long he spends there in the dirt, memories assailing him as his fingers brush over Miranda’s things, but eventually John finds him. John sits with him for several minutes before kissing James’s head and telling him, he’ll be back shortly. When John returns he has Thomas in tow.

Thomas looks around taking in Miranda’s belongings and lets out a short huff, “I’d forgotten I’d managed to rescue some things from the house after leaving Bethlem.” He sits cross legged in front of James and they share a small smile. “There is another trunk around here, I think mostly clothing, some jewelry, I don’t know what I was thinking when I was throwing things in. I knew I’d never see her again, but I packed things like we were going on a trip.”

James sees John out of the corner of his eye as he heads toward the barn door, “John, stay.”

Thomas’s head turns and he holds out his hand to John, “Please.”

John positions himself just off center between them..

“I wish you’d had a chance to really know her. You would have liked her, and she you.” James says as he runs his fingers across the silk bag in his lap.

Thomas crawls across the room to look under the stairs leading to the loft, and he spies the other trunk under some horse blankets. He pulls it across the room to where James is and they pry the lid off together. Thomas had been right, the crate contained mostly dresses and some of her less striking pieces of jewellery. At the bottom is an old fur wrap.

“She ended up hating this wrap. She absolutely had to have it. Saw it in the shop window and fell in love with it. She wore it once and the very next day she was covered in hives. She was furious. She couldn’t leave the house for days.” Thomas smiles serenely as he pets over the fur of the wrap. The story reminds James that Miranda had a temper like no other. She was without a doubt one of the most outwardly proper women James had ever known, when she wanted to be that was, in private however was an entirely different story.

“Do you remember when, who was it that was selling those expensive cosmetics?” James looks to Thomas before remembering himself, “Mrs. Abasheer. She brought those new tins of rogue around and Miranda bought three.”

Thomas’s eyes go wide before a smile cracks his face. He looks to John to explain. “They turned black after a certain number of hours, but no one knew that at first. We were out at the Opera and the lights came up at intermission and she had these two round black spots on her face and before I could tell her, Lord Blankenship was at our side. He kept looking at Miranda sideways and of course she had no idea. As soon as he left, I took her bag and dug out her mirror and showed her and she nearly screamed.”

When James looks at John he’s watching Thomas with a smile, eyes crinkled and James think of how alike John and Miranda were in some ways.

They spend several hours in the barn before they pack everything away. James keeps Miranda's small bag out, and they hang it from one of their bed posts. Later that evening after they’ve all had a little more brandy than they need, Thomas looks to John and says, “Did you know she seduced James in a carriage?”

John turns half lidded eyes his way, “I did not know that.”

“James was such an innocent then. I’m afraid we corrupted him beyond repair.” Thomas actually giggles slightly, much to John’s obvious delight.

James puts his glass aside, “Now hold on just a minute there. I was far from innocent.”

“Please, Miranda told me you nearly jumped out of your skin when she showed up at your door.” Thomas’s grin is salacious.

“I was concerned I was going to end up at the end of a noose.” James looks to John, “She wanted me to accompany her to a Museum in broad daylight without her husband.”

Thomas downs his drink and while pouring John another says, “Instead, they fucked in the back of a carriage.”

James hears John’s choked off laugher as Thomas continues, “She came home and couldn't stop talking about his cock. God, the things she used to say sometimes.”

Thomas looks at John, “She was beautifully filthy. She’s the one who encouraged me to peruse James in the first place. At first I’d told her it was futile, he was fucking her, I didn’t think he’d have any interest in me.”

“What changed your mind?” John stretches out on the settee between them, legs in Thomas’s lap, head in James’s.

“There were a dozen small things that seemed to finally add up and when he kicked my father out of his own house I couldn’t resist a second longer. You should have seen him, John. He stood there in that uniform and ordered my father to leave. It was magnificent. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I wanted him right then. If he was going to reject me, so be it, but I had to do something.”

James’s eyes meet Thomas’s and he can remember exactly what he’d been feeling then. He’d been so deeply in love with Thomas at that point, defending him had been a biological imperative that he hadn’t been able to ignore. The fact that Alfred had managed to insult not only Thomas but Miranda in a manner that James absolutely hadn’t been able to abide had been the last straw for James. He’d loved them both and he could no more sit there and listen to Alfred denigrate them than he could have stopped breathing.

“It’s a shame you no longer have that uniform.” Thomas says over the rim of his glass.

James laughs, “It wouldn’t fit.”

“The boots and the coat would be plenty.” Thomas strokes his fingers up John’s calf as he winks at John.

“He does have a way with coats doesn’t he?” John tilts his head so he can meet James’s eyes, “When we took the Spanish warship, the former captain had a long leather coat that James commandeered. He did look rather fetching in it. At least until he shaved his head.” John’s displeasure is evident.

James rolls his eyes, but Thomas sides with John. “He had the most beautiful hair. Much like yours is now, but lighter in color. Thick and full. I’ve tried convincing him to grow it back to that length.”

“I’ll grow my hair back if you promise to parade around here in your parliament attire.” James raises a brow at Thomas, “Speaking of coats. He had one in particular, it was dark blue velvet completely trimmed in gold it was the most pretentious thing I’d ever seen, but the way he looked,” James breaks off to whistle lowly.

“My station in life made James hard.” Thomas says drolly.

“Don’t let him fool you, my acknowledgement of his station in life makes _him_ hard, doesn’t it, My Lord.” James fires back.

John smiles crookedly, “You still get hard when I call you Captain thereby putting you in no position to judge.”

Thomas re-positions so that he’s straddling John’s hips, “All this talk of being hard, I think we should take it upstairs.” Thomas rocks his ass against John’s cock and John’s eyes slide closed with a sighing breath.

“Mmmm, but we have a perfectly good settee right here.” John says as his hands clutch at Thomas to bring him down into a kiss. They don’t make it to the bedroom until much later.

**^

On the days that James wakes up and his skin is too tight and his body is too small to contain the feelings inside him, Thomas takes John to Abigail’s or into town or he asks John to help him write proposals. James doesn’t understand exactly how Thomas knows without a word that James needs some space, but he always does. Those days James will work himself nearly to exhaustion, needing the physical labor to curb the unexplained rage that dwells within in.

It’s something that has always lived inside James. He’d spent so much of his life tamping it down until he became Flint. He released every bit of it then. It had carried him for years, driven him to things that his mind shies away from most days. Despite his overwhelming happiness now, the anger still comes rising up in him in a way that James no longer tries to deny. It’s easier for him to work through it, muscles burning, covered in sweat and dirt, than it is to try and deny its existence. He’s never been more thankful that Thomas understands without needing James to put words to it.

It’s late afternoon when James finally walks out of the barn, his shirt torn and smeared with dirt. He stops at the well and fills a bucket of water before removing his shirt and trousers. He dumps the bucket over his head before taking up the soap and lathering himself quickly. Once rinsed he doesn’t bother with his shirt, only his trousers, and makes his way to the house. His arms and back ache but the burning need to gut someone or something that he’d woken up with is gone and all that’s left behind is the peace he’s become accustomed to.

James walks into the kitchen expecting to find Thomas and John cooking, instead he finds John pressed up against the pantry cabinet, Thomas’s tongue tracing patterns down John’s neck. John’s head is back, one hand sunk deep into Thomas’s hair. The jealousy he had expected never comes, what he does feel is a desperate need to watch them. He wants to see Thomas take John apart, he wants to see John begging and needy. James leans against the doorframe, cock filling slowly as his eyes rake over them.

He doesn’t know what Thomas is whispering but it has John saying yes, and please. Thomas drags his hand down the side of John’s body, palm going behind John’s left thigh and then he lifts John’s leg, wraps it around his hip and grinds into John’s body. John cries out, body arching into Thomas. James will never be used to how beautiful John is. He had thought he’d known beauty until he’d seen the way John revels in pleasure, the way he lets himself go, not a second thought to would or should or propriety. He gives and takes with an abandon that James has never experienced before.

James is watching his face and when his eyes snap open he see James. His first response is a wicked grin until his consciousness catches up and he goes stiff. Thomas looks over his shoulder and winks at James when he sees him as he lowers John’s leg.

“I couldn’t resist.” Thomas say as he steps back and swipes his thumb along his wet bottom lip.

A look of guilt passes over John’s face and James can’t have that. “By all means don’t stop on my account I was quite enjoying the show.” To prove his point he slowly reaches down to adjust his cock showing them both just how much.

John bites his lip, eyes finding the floor. Thomas looks between the two of them, and raises an eyebrow at James as he leaves the room.

As soon as Thomas has left John speaks, “I’m sorry.”

James approaches him, runs his thumb over John’s bottom lip. It’s swollen and damp, hot to the touch, “Why would you be sorry?” He tilts John’s head up so their eyes meet.

“We didn’t wait for you.” It’s barely audible, rushed out on a gasping breath as James palms John’s hard cock.

“Do you and I wait for Thomas every time?” James brings their bodies flush, thinking about last week at the garden, the way John had furiously unbuttoned James’s pants and taken James into his mouth.

“No.” The thick sound of his voice tells James that John remembers too.

“Do you think Thomas and I wait for you every time?” Biting at John’s collarbone, he sucks a mark just off center.

“Of course not.” John says as if he thinks James might have gone mad in the interim.

“Then why would you think you’d need to wait for me?” James pulls back, eyes searching John’s.

“You’re the reason we’re all here.”

“No, John, that’s not true. _You’re_ the reason we’re here. You’re the reason this works. And in the event that it wasn’t already obvious, Thomas wants you desperately.” A shiver runs down John’s spine. “Can he have you?”

“Yes.” The word is whispered into James’s mouth as he seals their lips together. James kisses him deep and wet until they can’t breath and have to break apart. “I want to watch, I want to see just the two of you together. Just the thought of it sets me on fire.”

John nods. They rush up the stairs and find Thomas leaning against the bed frame. James gives John a small nudge as he moves to take a seat in the arm chair in the corner.

Thomas pulls John in, “Now, where were we?”

James takes a seat just as John’s mouth opens under Thomas’s invading tongue. He sees Thomas lick inside and Johns sags against him, arms going around Thomas’s waist to hold on. Thomas backs him toward the bed, striping him quickly, he divests John of his clothes and peg before manhandling him up onto the bed.

Thomas puts him on his stomach and immediately gets his mouth on John’s hole. John’s whole body spasms as he whines and God James loves the view of it. He can see every nuance of pleasure on John’s face, every shiver that runs through him. Thomas’s hands pull him apart and when he sits back James can see the shine of Thomas’s spit all over John. He can see the way John’s ass clenches against where Thomas is blowing air across him.

John moans and pushes back against Thomas’s seeking mouth and then forward against the bed. James palms his cock, hisses out a breath. He’s so hard already, just from seeing them together, it won’t take much for him. Thomas goes back to John’s hole tongue first and John claws at the bed, fingers fisting in the sheets, shoving his ass back, almost coming up on his knees as he moans Thomas’s name and begs for more.

Thomas is greedy, feasting slowly on John despite John’s plea’s for Thomas to fuck him. James doesn't know how long Thomas licks at him but by the time Thomas turns him over John is shivering non stop, body boneless. Thomas covers John’s body with his, leans up to take John’s mouth.

James can’t stop looking at how beautiful they are together. The contrast of John’s darker tone against the paleness of Thomas’s skin sends desire raging through him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of seeing them like this together, bodies entwined, mouths locked together, the hint of tongue he can just make out when they pull back only to press together again. James had worried about how he would feel seeing them together, but all he feels is clawing, desperate want. James is filled to the brim with the most soul shattering love he's ever known.

Thomas’s fingers dip into the tin before going to John’s hole, he rubs over John gently, getting him slick before he pushes in with two fingers. John jerks, a guttural moan filling the room, foot scrabbling on the bed. Thomas licks across John’s right nipple as his fingers work John’s ass. Eventually John pushes Thomas’s hand away, “Now, please.”

James can hear the desperation in John’s voice. Thomas takes up a place between John’s legs. He draps John’s legs over his as he lines himself up. Thomas runs his hands up John’s thighs. John meets Thomas’s eyes and James watches them smile at each other. Thomas leans in, kisses John quickly and then he guides his cock to John’s hole. Even though James can’t see it, he knows the second Thomas breaches John’s body. John’s brows draw in, his mouth opens on a tiny breathy moan, eyes fluttering closed briefly.

Thomas’s head drops to watch himself slide into John. James knows what’s he feeling, understands just how tight John is, he knows just how good the hot clutch of John’s body can be. John’s hands come down to wrap around Thomas’s wrists, his thumbs stroking over the back of Thomas’s hands.

James see Thomas’s hips roll forward, John moans low, head tipping backward. Thomas fuck hims slowly, languidly. He spends long minutes working John open on his cock. Slow drag out, slower push back in, hands skating all over John’s torso, plucking at his nipples. Until finally John gets his hands on Thomas’s ass pulls him in hard, lifts his hips up into Thomas’s, bites across Thomas’s chest, he stretches his body out, “Fuck me.” It’s a whispered demand, but one that Thomas heeds.

Thomas fucks John hard pushing John’s body up the bed with each thrust. John has one hand locked on Thomas’s hip, the other clutching the sheet next to him, head back, the long line of his neck fully exposed. Thomas is breathing hard, chest flushed, cheeks ruddy as his eyes slide over John’s body. James loves the way the muscles in his ass clench with each thrust, the way his thighs tighten and release.

He’s usually too overcome with the way Thomas feels inside him to appreciate the way he looks and God the way he looks right now. Thomas’s face is awash with the pleasure he’s taking from John’s body. Thomas’s own body is perfectly honed, well earned muscle, each limb working in tandem, muscles standing out as his hips piston back and forth, light blonde hair catching in the late sun and glowing, the wings of his shoulder blades shift under damp skin, his back undulating like a serpent with each push and pull, James has always loved Thomas’s body but never more so than right now.

They’re both covered in sweat, slick and shiny and James wants to run his tongue all over both of them. Wants to collect the taste of them together. He’s torn between staying where he is and moving closer to get a bird's eye view of John’s rapidly approaching orgasm.

John is so close now, James can see the telltale tremors in his legs, he can hear the hitch in his breathing, his fingers are clenching and releasing, hips restless. He sees the way John is trying to fight it off. There’s nothing John loves more than being fucked, he always tries so hard to stave off his orgasm. It’s amazing to James to be able to see it from a distance, to not be distracted by the tight sheath of John’s body and the feel of John’s inner walls fluttering around his cock.

When Thomas wraps his fingers around John’s cock, John’s body arches. He moans low in the back of his throat and it only take three twists of Thomas’s wrist and John is crying out, body bucking, as he comes all over Thomas’s fist. Thomas leans in, mouth licking the murky fluid from John’s chest. “So good for me.”

James can practically hear John purr at the praise. Thomas’s arms start to shake where they’re holding John’s legs, his eyes close on a hitching breath, hips losing their rhythm and then he shoves in hard, hips rolling and pushing in and in, body shaking as he gasps, sweat sliding down his back. James knows he’s coming deep inside John. James curls his fingers over the arm of the chair as he watches Thomas’s body undulate above John, a last tremor rocking John’s body. Jesus, they’re so incredibly beautiful together.

John’s eyes slide open slowly and his gaze finds James’s. John stares at him, eyes still heavy lidded. He crooks his finger. James doesn’t hesitate. Thomas and John share a look and Thomas slowly pulls out of John’s body.

Thomas works James’s pants down and then John leans in to take his cock, while Thomas licks into his mouth. He can taste John on Thomas’s tongue and it makes him moan. He sucks hard, scrapes his teeth over the slick muscle to get every last taste of John. John’s tongue licks up the underside of his cock, and he has to pull his mouth away from Thomas to breathe. His hand goes to the back of John’s head, fingers tangling in the dark strands, palm lending support as John sucks him.

James gets to his knees and John pulls off his cock. They push him down onto his back, both of them hovering over him. The two of them share another look before they both slither down his body. They spread his legs as far as they’ll go and then at nearly the same time they both sink their teeth into his inner thighs.

James’s hips shoots off the bed, a strangled shout echoing off the walls. “Jesus, fuck.” When he looks down there are twin smiles on their faces. John licks up the inside of one leg, tongue swirling through the sparse hair while Thomas licks behind the knee of the other. The sting of John’s teeth make him pant and the way Thomas sucks blood to the surface makes him clutch at Thomas’s head, whether to pull him closer or push him away James doesn’t know.

They work in tandem up and down James’s thighs, biting, licking, sucking to the sound of James gasping and cursing above them. His thighs feel hot and swollen, sore in the most delicious way. His hips rock up into nothing, seeking friction that isn’t there. They’re doing so many things at once that eventually he can’t concentrate on a single thing, all the touch running together, but it all goes straight to his cock, begging for them touch it, lying in its own pool of precome

They eventually meet in the middle at the base of his cock, two tongues twisting over him, tasting him, slicking him base to tip as they takes turns sucking him down. James no longer knows what belongs to who, his eyes are squeezed shut as intense pleasure races through him. John moves to the side of him, his mouth closing around the head of James’s cock as Thomas gets to his stomach between James’s thighs. Thomas traces a line down his balls, jagged pleasure shooting all the way up, the tip twitching against John’s tongue.

Thomas pulls James’s legs over his shoulders and then Thomas’s tongue strokes softly over his hole and James cries out, head digging back into the bed. He plants his feet and shoves back against Thomas’s tongue and then up into John’s mouth. He shudders at the dual sensation. He’s already starting to shiver, so fucking close to the edge he can taste it on the back of his tongue. Thomas seals his mouth over James’s hole and sucks, teeth scraping his rim as John hollows his cheeks, tongue tickling under the head of his cock. James feels like his life flashes before his eyes, body tightening, and then he’s splintering apart.

He throws his head back, mouth gasping, hips twitching, eyes open wide staring at nothing as the hot feeling of his orgasm rolls through him. He feels himself convulsing, arms and legs jerking, almost like he’s watching it from afar. He can’t think, can barely breathe, as he pulses hard inside John’s mouth. He can feel John swallowing around him, just as James finally begins to go soft, John pulls up quickly and looks to Thomas. James watches as John feeds Thomas the last of James’s come. Thomas licks into John’s mouth a soft moan coming up from the back of his throat. James can’t do anything but lie there and pant.

***

Every few months James will wake up to find a sword lying on the Island in the kitchen. It’s John’s way of telling him that he needs to spar, he needs to fight, he needs to let off a head of steam that he can’t release any other way than through violence, simulated or otherwise.

Those days James will put several wildflowers in a vase for Thomas, signalling not to worry of his and John’s absence. James will saddle a horse, pack some food stuffs, a few corked jugs of water, the sword John left for him and ride to the beach. He’ll find John sitting on the sand, staring out over the water, eyes distant, body tense. James has never asked how deeply John regrets letting Madi go, too afraid of the answer, but he knows instinctively that on these days, she’s forefront in his mind.

John rarely hears him approach, too lost to his own thoughts, until James has dropped down into the sand next to him. It’s always the same. They’ll sit for some time, until John reaches out for his hand. John will squeeze it once and then they’re up.

There are few words spoken between them, they’re not needed. So much has passed between them that their communication ascends to another level. They’ll spar for hours, James winning more than John but not by much.

Halfway through they’ll break for something to eat and drink, removing their shirts in the midday heat. By the time John has chased away his demons they’re both covered in sweat and exhausted. They always end up removing the rest of their clothes and wading out into the ocean John using James as a crutch. James will pull John to him and John will wrap his legs around James’s waist and they’ll spend more than an hour just holding onto each other as the waves wash over them.

After, they’ll move further inland, find a shaded grassy spot to lie down and let themselves dry. It's on these days that James learns of John’s love for kissing. John will kiss him endlessly, short, long, soft, hard, all over his face and chest. James indulges him, thankful that he’s here, thankful that he’s chosen James, and by extension Thomas. They always return before dark, Thomas waiting supper for them. He’ll feed them and then bathe them and then he’ll take them to bed. The three of them tangled up together none of them knowing where the beginning or the end is.

***

Time passes in a dizzying array of the most satisfying sex James has ever had. The two of them are a force to be reckoned with. The care that John and Thomas take with him is only eclipsed by the care they take of each other. James has never really been privy to watching two people fall in love but he sees it happening every day in little ways for both of them.

John continues to accompany Thomas to Abigail’s and each time they return home even more cemented in what they must do, what they must accomplish, both of them seeing the same vision. Those nights James tends to take a more observational role in bed as John and Thomas share something that James isn’t strictly a part of and the connection that hums between them is a bond that James doesn’t wish to push into. Perhaps some would feel neglected, but not James, he feels only gratitude that the two men he’d lay his life down for, have come together in a such a phenomenal way. Nothing makes him happier than seeing the bond they’ve forged.

Lately John has been spending more time away during the day and while James misses him, he understands that John needs to have something of his own. He’s glad that John has found a place within the Yamacraw people.

John had left earlier in the day to meet Mary and some of the Yamacraw children for a numbers lesson. The fact that he wasn’t home by dinner was only marginally worrying. John sometimes lost track of time during his afternoons with the Yamacraw children and he would wander in later, apology on his lips.

James and Thomas didn’t bother to hold dinner, they made John a plate and settled down in the parlor to read. With each hour that passed James became increasingly worried, and by the time the clock chimes twelve, James is nearly frantic.

“We have to go look for him.”

“James, it’s pitch black, we won’t find him, and we’ll most likely get ourselves lost.”

“He’s out there alone. What if someone has figured out who he is?”

“You trained him, did you not?”

James just nods. Yes, he’d trained John but it has been over a year since John has had to fight for his life, their sparring sessions notwithstanding.

They spend the rest of the night pacing the house. Just as the sun is beginning to come up and James and Thomas are getting ready to head to the corral to saddle the horses, they hear the screen door in the kitchen bang against the frame.

James doesn’t think before he starts yelling, “Where in the fuck have you been? We’ve been up all goddamn night.”

John is leaning against the frame, right arm wrapped around his waist holding himself, head hanging down, staring at the floor breathing fast. When he lifts his head up, Thomas gasps.

John’s face is battered, lip split, blood at his temple, one eye swollen and purple. His hair is matted with leaves and grass. Thomas is across the room in a heartbeat.

“What the fuck happened?” James bellows, anger bubbling up.

“James, tone. Screaming at him isn’t going to help and by the looks of him, I’d say he’s had about all the abuse he can take for right now.” Thomas is tilting John’s head this way and that trying to get a good look at the cuts on his face. “Fill the pots, he needs a hot bath.”

James says nothing more as he takes the two biggest hanging kettles out to the well and fills them. When he gets back he places them over the coals in the kitchen to heat. Thomas has led John to the dining room. He’s slowing removing John’s shoe and peg.

“Go upstairs and bring down some of the cloths from the linen closet and one of the spare sheets.”

When James comes back down he hears the tail end of Thomas’s conversation.

“Losing you would kill him.”

“He would get over it.” John’s voice is scratchy, tired.

“He wouldn’t.” Thomas’s voice is firm, “You need to stop underestimating what he feels for you. And if you won’t do that, then you need to stop underestimating what _I_ feel for you. James isn’t the only one in this house who is in love with you.” Thomas’s voice has gone an octave higher, the barely contained fear clear as a bell.

There’s dead silence for several more seconds and then, “Well, that wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I thought about broaching this subject with you, but that’s...that’s how I feel.” There’s a pause before Thomas says, “Will you tell me what happened?”

“I’m running slaves to the shore, getting them onto ships that will take them home or to one of the maroon islands. I’ve plotted the courses for them and I’m paying their way. I’ve found some sympathetic captains.”

James steps back into the room, hands Thomas the cloths. “And who would these sympathetic captain be?”

John only looks at him, just as defiant now as he ever had been, challenging James now the same way he challenged him then. James hears Thomas sigh from where he’s kneeling in front of John.

“What the fuck are you thinking? Why the hell are you doing this?” James just barely refrains from yelling.

“You of all people need to ask me that?” The look John levels at him makes James want to crawl into a hole.

“No, I supposed I don’t.” James pauses, runs his hands over his face, “We can’t save you if you get caught. All the money, all the influence, it won’t mean a thing, they’ll hang you and there won’t be a damn thing we can do about it.”

“I know.”

“Don’t get caught.” It’s more plea than demand. Thomas was right, it would kill him to lose John.

“I’m careful. I won’t.” When James just raises a brow at him, John chuckles and then winces in pain. “Present circumstance excluded, I’m very careful. This wasn’t done by a landowner, this was done by a rogue crew.”

James and Thomas exchange a look and John rolls his eyes. “They’re long gone, you’ll never find them.”

Thomas motions John forward and John gingerly sits up letting Thomas pull his shirt over his head. This time it’s James who gasps. John’s abdomen, sides and back are riddled with bruises of varying colors and James feels rage welling within him. Rage at whoever had the nerve to touch John and rage at John for putting himself in this position.

“If they’re so sympathetic why are you beat half to death?” James will get the names from him if it’s the last thing he does. He can already feel his hands curling into fists.

“The captains, yes, not all of the crew. They expected I wouldn’t be able to fight back.”

James can’t help but feel a surge of pride in the midst of his anger. John is anything but helpless and many a fool has failed to account for him along their way.

When James looks to Thomas he sees the concern on Thomas’s face at the way John grimaces every time he moves. Thomas’s hands brush over John’s ribs, pressing here and there. John hisses in pain but Thomas determines that nothing is broken.

He presses midway and lower and just off center of John’s back. It doesn’t garner a reaction but Thomas tells John, “If you start pissing blood, you tell me immediately, understood.”

John only nods, knowing better than to argue. When the water is heated through James adds both large pots and one cold one to the tub. He puts two more pots on the fire to heat while they help John into the tub. John settles down with a groan as the hot water washes over his sore muscles.

Thomas lathers a cloth and starts at John’s foot. He lifts John’s right leg out of the water and runs the soapy cloth from the tips of his toes to his knee. John hums as Thomas rubs circles into his calf. James has John sit forward slightly so he can wet down John’s hair. He pours several pitchers of water over John’s head before he takes the soap from Thomas and lathers John’s hair. James massages John’s scalp, fingers combing through the tangles gently. Once he’s washed and rinsed John’s hair, he begins to plait it into a single braid, a skill he learned from Miranda. When Thomas notices he gives James a soft look.

They’re careful but thorough looking for wounds as their hands run over him. Thomas runs the cloth over both of John’s thighs and while James can’t see what Thomas is doing, John’s choked off breath gives him a pretty good idea. Thomas smiles at John and hands the cloth off to James. Thomas’s hands stay below the surface as John tips his head back on the edge of the tub as James leans over to run the soapy cloth over John’s shoulders and chest. He rubs gently downward and his hand encounters Thomas’s where it’s wrapped around John’s slowly hardening cock. For several minutes they stroke him together, the fingers intertwined around him.

John hums his pleasure. James works his way back up, brushes the soapy cloth over John’s nipples. John moans low and breathy. He tips John forward to reach his back and John suddenly moans again. Without removing his hands Thomas comes around the side of the tub to kiss John. James can’t help but watch as he rinses John’s back.

Thomas kisses him at length, his arm moving below the surface making John whimper. Thomas finally lets him go and they finish rinsing him.

By the time they’re done John is clean and relaxed and James’s anger is banked for the moment. They help John from the bath and Thomas dries him while James dumps the water. They tear the extra sheet into strips to wrap John’s ribs and then James helps John to their bed while Thomas makes him cup of tea.

James has John settled in bed, pillows stacked behind him when Thomas enters the room. Thomas takes up the space on the other side of John. He hands John the tea with a caveat, “There’s a trace of laudanum to ease the pain.”

John eyes him warily until Thomas’s hand comes to rest on John’s ribs. “I don’t want to hurt you, but I need to feel you.” Thomas’s voice is soft, a tremor running through the words. His eyes plead with John. Without hesitation John brings the cup to his lips. James sees the desperate need in Thomas’s eyes mixed with the fear of losing John and James understands. Thomas needs to know John is alive, a little worse for wear, but safe. It's a feeling that James himself is intimately familiar with.

Thomas undresses slowly. John’s eyes trail over every inch of skin that Thomas bares. He gets to his knees between John’s spread legs to take John’s cock into his mouth. John’s been half hard since they got him out of the bath and Thomas works him to full hardness with his tongue. He licks over the head, and John’s hips push up, a garbled moan of half pain half pleasure.

They wait until John’s smile goes lopsided and then James and Thomas lower him slowly to his back. “I think I like this treatment, perhaps I should come home bloody more often.”

“Perhaps you should rethink that statement.” James tell him as he leans into lick across John’s left nipple.

Thomas slicks John’s cock, he gives himself perfunctory prep before he’s climbing into John’s lap. He holds John’s cock steady as he slides down slowly. John hisses, his hands hold Thomas’s hips, “Go slow.”

Thomas only nods, eyes never leaving John’s face. He rocks back and forth, eyes slipping closed, mouth parting on a puff of air. John reaches up, fingers plucking at Thomas’s nipples. Thomas moans brokenly hips stuttering.

James slides up behind Thomas, takes his weight so Thomas can move more freely without putting pressure on John’s chest or ribs. “Tell him how it feels.” James whispers the words directly into Thomas’s ear.

Thomas shivers, “So good, it’s always so good.”

John’s watching them through heavy lidded eyes, his tongue licking out to trace his bottom lip as his gaze meets James’s. James’s licks down Thomas’s neck as he reaches around to take Thomas’s cock in his fist. He strokes him slowly, playing with the head, rubbing over the slit. Thomas rolls his hips faster and John moans. Thomas starts lifting himself gently, a slow up and down that has John fisting his fingers in the sheet.

Thomas starts to move faster, breath catching, between John’s cock, thick and hard inside him and James’s fingers working him over expertly, James knows it won’t take him long. James sees John’s hips rock up, head going back on a hissed breath. Thomas lets his head loll against James’s shoulder as his body undulates. John reaches for Thomas’s hands, He pulls Thomas over him, both sets of fingers entwined where they land next to John’s head.

Thomas starts to slow and John shakes his head, “Don’t stop, I’m fine, I just want to kiss you.”

Even though James can’t see it, he knows the blinding smile that Thomas gives John. The two of them love kissing. It’s not that James doesn’t, he just likes other things more, but Thomas and John, he’s never see two people who could make a sport out of kissing. Despite John’s insistence that Thomas not stop, it happens anyway, at least to the point that Thomas is just gently rolling his hips as they kiss. Thomas’s concentration clearly centered elsewhere. It lasts so long that Thomas’s arms begin to shake from holding himself up.

He sits back slowly, one of his hands still held in John’s as they smile at one another. Thomas lets James take his weight once again as he begins to move. Thomas rides him slowly, a leisurely, controlled lift and lowering of his hip. Pulling out until only the tip remains, he slides serenely back down until John is begging him, “Thomas, please.”

Thomas speeds up, “Hmmm, is this what you want.” Thomas is close to panting, breath coming shallowly now as he begins riding John faster, a little harder and John’s hands slide along Thomas’s thighs, rubbing at the muscles, scratching at the light hair.

“Touch yourself.” John tells him.

Thomas’s eyes never leave John’s as he takes his cock in his fist. He’s wet at the tip as he slides his palm over himself, moaning at the sensation. James licks his thumbs and reaches around to gently rub over Thomas’s nipples. John’s eyes are hungry as they watch Thomas’s hand where he strokes over himself.

“I want you to come so I can taste you.” The words are barely audible but Thomas hears them. He moves faster, hand twisting over the head of his cock, James pinches both nipples and then tugs. Thomas’s body freezes before he shudders hard and comes over John’s stomach. He grinds himself down on John’s cock, fingers squeezing the head of his cock to wring every last feeling from himself. He’s panting, tiny little mewls of satisfaction filling the air around them.

Thomas leans over, lets John suck his fingers as he circles his hip, rocking on John’s cock, redoubling his efforts to get John off. John’s hips press up, hands grasping Thomas’s hips as he fucks up and in. Before long his head goes back, a low moan escaping him, fingers tightening on Thomas’s hips as he shivers through his own orgasm.

James comes around to lie next to John, Thomas dropping down to the other side. John reaches for him, but James pulls his hips away, “It’ll keep. You need to sleep now.”

John nods, lifting his arm for Thomas to crawl under. Thomas strokes gentle fingers against John’s chest, “If we can’t convince you to stop, please be more careful. I can’t lose you, John.” John drags him in for a kiss and James can see the tremor in Thomas’s lips.

James only hopes that John will listen.

***

The first time John tells Thomas that he loves him it comes out in a rush of breath after an argument. John had stomped through the house, Thomas hot on heels pleading for John not to leave, fear evident in his harried tone. John had suddenly turned to face him and blurted it out. James intends to leave, intends to let them hash it out, give them privacy, but John stops him.

“I need you to hear this too.” He swallows hard, eyes darting between them, “When I decided to stay it was because I couldn’t give James up again, but you never factored into my plans.” John catches Thomas’s eyes and holds them, “I never accounted for you. Before I knew what was happening you were under my skin.”

John shakes his head at himself, half smile on his face as he approaches Thomas, “Wanting you, it was fairly difficult for me to accept. James was supposed to be my exception but you kept working your way in and suddenly I wanted you as much as I wanted him, and as you both well know it took me some time and a little push.” He takes another step closer to Thomas, close enough to touch.

“I never expected you to take the kind of care of me that you do. I never expected you to look at me the way you look at him, I never expected your love, but you gave it to me freely, knowing that I may very well never return it.” John takes one of Thomas’s hand in his, the other cupping the side of Thomas’s face, “But I do. I am in love with you, and I want you to know it. No matter that we argue or disagree, I love you, and despite my storming off in a tantrum, I will always find my way back.”

John kisses him so tenderly that James almost feels badly for watching. Thomas grips John’s sides and pulls him closer. He breaks the kiss and buries his head in John’s hair. James can’t hear what Thomas is saying but it makes John smile brilliantly. After that James makes his escape and leaves them to it. They need to work it out and James has fence rails to mend.

It’s not always easy, and there are times when John feels so out of place that he retreats to the cabin for days at a time and will refuse to see either of them. For those days James is miserable and moody and he spends most of the times outside of the cabin, sitting on the steps telling John stories through the door about when he was in the Navy. Eventually John will unlock the door and James will disappear inside for hours and by the time they emerge they’re both sated and teary eyed.

Thomas has never once begrudged the bond between them. He’d told James once that the two of them had lived through horrors that no one else could possibly understand and if John needed James’s reassurance, then he would never stand in the way.

John will usually spend the next several days apologizing to Thomas and showering him with affection. On the other end of the spectrum, there are days when the only solace John can find is in Thomas’s arms and James is willing to step aside, to let the still growing relationship between John and Thomas take precedence.

There are still nightmares filled with death and destruction and more blood than any one person should ever have to see. There are still days James wakes with rage that even his work in the barn can’t dissipate. Those days he’ll ride to the beach and scream into ocean until he’s hoarse. He’ll tear at the sand and vegetation until his hands are bloody and he can barely raise his arms.

But now there are two sets of arms to be held within when he returns. There is double the strength, double the support, and more love than any of them could have ever hoped for. It’s not perfect, but James thinks it pretty damn close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All titles from my favorite Fleetwood song, _Landslide_


End file.
